


No Matter Above or Below

by eena



Category: Supernatural, Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: AU, Angst, Character Death, Crossover, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-23
Updated: 2012-03-23
Packaged: 2017-11-02 10:29:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 66,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/367977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eena/pseuds/eena
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five years after Founders' Day, Caroline's got herself a brand new life-new house, new dog, and new hangups. Her uncle has died, her friends are scattered, and she's been betrayed by her boyfriend yet again (always a betrayal-but the act itself is always different). She's carved out a life for herself, one that includes her dog, research, and hardly ever leaving the house. Dean says it's not healthy, but Dean's an ass and who cares what he thinks, right?</p><p>Sure, things aren't perfect. She's haunted by the memories of her past, can't shake the sadness over having another loved one die, and now her ex-best-friend invades her dreams every night and makes it impossible for Caroline to get any rest.  Everything will be all right if she just ignores it, but now Sam and Cas are breaking into her house every other day to tell her she can't ignore it anymore. The dreams are starting to bleed into her waking world and Caroline's amazed she's still got a shred of sanity left in her.</p><p>She can't go back to Mystic Falls, can't even think of it. He's still there, she thinks he will always be there, and she can't handle seeing him ever again.</p><p>Damon Salvatore has always been her breaking point . . .</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> written back in 2010, for the tvd bigbang

Title: No Matter Above or Below  
Genre/type: (gen, slash, het, crossover, etc.) het-crossover  
Pairing(s)/Character(s): Mentions of Caroline/Matt, Caroline/Damon, and Caroline/Sam  
Rating: FR15, at most.  
Warnings: (violence, sexual content, death, strong language, etc.) Violence, death, language, and some sexual stuff (but not graphic)  
Dedication: To the lovely Aoife, for the beta. And to Marina, for helping me talk it out. You guys put up with a lot to help me get this done, and the fact that it actually got finished is a tribute to your awesomeness.

~*~

The Grill is unchanged these past five years.

The decor is the same (dark tones, modern look, bar scene battling a restaurant atmosphere). Even the people are the same. The bartender has not changed since she was last here, and she still doesn’t have a clue as to the older woman’s name. Matt’s mom was supposed to pick up that job when Ben McKittrick bailed, but she never did. So the twenty-something redhead with the goth-rocker vibe picked up the job.

“It’s good to see you.”

Elena’s voice is warm and her face is earnest. Her whole being pulsates with sincerity. Caroline knows that Elena is indeed glad to see her. But Caroline is not so glad to see her.

“Are we really going to do this again?” she asks Elena, shifting uncomfortably in her seat. Blue eyes scan the area around them, on the lookout for anyone else she knew. There are a lot of people in the restaurant at the moment, but none of them she recognizes. She utters a sigh of relief.

“Caroline, please,” Elena’s eyes water instantly. Caroline huffs and stares determinedly down at the table top. She refuses to give in to the tears. It’s too late for that.

“Elena, really, what is the point?” Caroline gives her former best friend a hard look. “We’ve been over this before. Nothing has changed. I don’t have it in me.”

Elena is quiet for a moment, hands twisting in her lap. A few tears escape this time before Elena draws in a deep breath and tries again. “It’s not about us anymore, Caroline. It has gotten bigger-and they need you here. Please Caroline, this isn’t what your mom would have-“

“Do not mention my mother, Elena,” Caroline’s voice comes through like tiny shards of glass. The anger is still strong, even after all these years. “And who are these ‘they’ that need me so much? Who? Bonnie? Stefan? Or maybe your best buddy Damon?”

“Carol-“

“Or, perhaps it’s your Uncle. How is John?”

His name is the breaking point. Elena’s mouth snaps shut and her eyes droop with untold sadness. There is guilt on that beautiful face, guilt and heartbreak. Caroline almost regrets putting it there. But she has been through too much to give way to regret.

For ten minutes Elena is silent and moping. Waitresses rush by in a flurry of activity, the murmur of other’s conversations rises and falls in pitch as topics are discussed, argued, and then dropped. Someone drops something from the back of the room and then a busboy is scurrying over with a broom and a dustpan. It is all so ordinary and familiar.

“You never used to be this cold,” Elena is the picture of perfect contrition. “I know I had my part to play in it, but this isn’t you Caroline. You had so much life to you. But now, it’s like you’re barely there at all. And I know you don’t want to hear it, but your mother wouldn’t have wanted this for you. She loved you, we all loved you-and I’m sorry that it wasn’t enough to chase back the darkness.”

“Elena, we’re going in circles,” Caroline’s determined to not show any emotion. But if Elena kept on like this, she would fail to keep herself in check. “I’m getting sick of all this.”

Elena looks at Caroline with pity and compassion. The pity is better; Caroline can get angry with that. But the compassion is troubling. Elena has known her too long; she could see through almost all of Caroline’s masks. And Caroline is not in the mood for unmasking.

“I’m leaving,” Caroline tells her primly, gathering some of her old attitude for the delivery. “You shouldn’t come back.”

“You can’t outrun it, Caroline,” Elena ignores her declaration but softens the blow with a smile. “Destiny isn’t something that you can outrun. You can delay it, to the peril of others, but you can’t outrun it.”

This argument is familiar too, but for an entirely different set of reasons. Caroline stubbornly sets her jaw. “I believe in free will.”

“And I believe that deep down, you’re still a Forbes,” Elena shakes her head. “That’s a part of you, Caroline. It always has been and it always will be. Your uncle told you as much.”

“Enough!” The anger is too hot to control. “Just go!”

Elena smiles once more, but this time the smile has more humour than pity. “This is my town, Caroline,” she reminds her.

Caroline narrows her eyes. “But this is my dream, Elena.”

~*~

The sun is shining through the curtains, casting strange shadows across her bed. Caroline rouses feeling less rested than she should. A quick glance at the clock shows her it is seven in the morning. That makes for about six hours, give or take. More than she usually gets. And yet, she feels as tired as ever.

She blames the dreams, and Elena. She isn’t sure what’s wrong with her. She’s been dreaming of Elena for the past six months, almost every single night. The dreams are always the same. Elena comes, they argue, and then she wakes up. Dream-Elena wants something from her, and Caroline can’t quite remember what that is by the time she wakes. But whatever it is, Caroline is not feeling generous enough towards to her former friend to consider it. Be it real-Elena or dream-Elena, Caroline has nothing to offer but anger.

Caroline pushes down the covers, ignoring the disgruntled sounds coming from Rumsfeld. The big dog opens one eye and seemingly glares at her. This brings a small, but genuine smile to her face. Caroline blows the old mutt a kiss and then gets out of bed. The air hits her bare legs and she shivers, pausing to grab her robe before going to the door. She steps out into the hallway, shrugging the flannel bathrobe over her t-shirt and shorts. She makes for the stairs, Rumsfeld at her heels, having hauled his body from the warm bed. She smiles at his fealty, dropping one hand to give him a loving scratch behind the ears.

They amble into the kitchen, Caroline pausing in the front hall to glance into the library. She had gone to sleep without putting away her research materials and the place is messy enough to cause her guilt. Uncle Bobby would have yelled for hours if he saw the state of the library.

Rumsfeld runs ahead of her, taking his customary spot in front of his feeding dish. Caroline grabs the phone with one hand and opens a cupboard with the other. As she pulls out Rumsfeld’s food she changes the ringer setting, switching it off silent mode. She dumps a generous portion into his dish, scooping up his water bowl to fill it. She sets down the phone, noticing the blinking light on the answering machine as she passes. She presses the button, moving onto the sink while the machine runs through its routine.

First message: “Caroline? It’s Dean. Listen, I know you’re busy but call me.”

Caroline pauses momentarily, the voice on the machine stirring a whirlwind of emotions in her belly. But the moment passes and she goes back to filling up Rumsfeld’s bowl.

Second message: “Caroline? Seriously, call me back.”

She places Rumsfeld’s bowl on the ground and gives the dog a kiss on the top of his head. Rumsfeld, dish full and water at the ready, is the happiest he can be. Caroline moves away from his corner and heads for the coffee maker.

Third message: “Caroline? I get it, okay? You’re mad. I understand. But I’m sorry and I’m trying to make it right. You have to talk to me. What you’re doing-just call me.”

The coffee is percolating and she moves onto the pantry, looking for a suitable breakfast. She passes over old boxes of stale cereal (she should really throw those out) and pulls out a breakfast bar. She tears open the wrapping, eyes on the answering machine as it winds its way to the next message.

Fourth message: “Damn it, Caroline! I’m sorry! How many times do I have to say it? I get that you’re mad, but it’s time to deal with it. I am so sick of all this passive-aggressive bullshit! Bobby would kick your ass if he knew how you were acting! I’m halfway there myself. Call me!”

Dean’s voice is laced with certain menace. She knows he is at the point where he will jump in his car and drive over here, just to kick her ass. The thought amuses her, and chills her. She is not ready for that, not yet.

Caroline takes a bite of her breakfast and goes to pour herself some coffee.

~*~

_Caroline Forbes is four-years old and a vision of pink princess bliss. Her dress may be cotton, but it has lace and ribbons and bows. Her stockings are pristine white, encasing little legs still chubby with baby fat. Her sandals are pearly pink with shiny silver buckles that gleam in the sunlight. Her blonde hair is curly, hitting her shoulders and held back from her face by a pink plastic headband. She is the picture of cute; the definition of adorable._

_She is also kind of scared because her Mommy was fighting with Uncle Bobby again._

_Uncle Bobby doesn’t live in Mystic Falls like Caroline does. He lives farther away, in a place Mommy called Sue Falls or something. Caroline does know that Uncle Bobby lives in a house with a really big yard that’s full of cars. Uncle Bobby’s house is old and kind of dirty looking-on the outside. Inside it’s nice and warm, and there’s this really big library that Caroline loves to walk around. Sure the books Uncle Bobby has aren’t that nice, and some of them have really weird pictures in them, but the library is nice. There’s this couch that is so soft and bouncy that Caroline never hesitates to go running for it. Uncle Bobby never stops her either, even when Mommy starts saying that Caroline should behave herself. The only thing Uncle Bobby doesn’t let her do in the library is read his books. That’s fine with her; Caroline hasn’t learnt to read properly yet, so she couldn’t read them if she wanted to. For her, Uncle Bobby’s library was more of a playground than a library._

_But the library is why Mommy and Uncle Bobby are fighting._

_“It isn’t healthy Bobby. And it isn’t what she would have wanted-“_

_“I’m a grown man, Elizabeth. I can make my own goddamn decisions.”_

_Uncle Bobby uses a lot of naughty words that Caroline isn’t supposed to hear. Mommy gives him a troubled look and then looks at her. Uncle Bobby turns to look at her too and Caroline gives him her best smile. He gives her a smile too, but it’s much smaller than hers. Uncle Bobby never smiles too big. Mommy says it’s because he misses Aunt Karen so much that he can’t smile too big. Caroline thinks that’s the saddest thing she’s ever heard in her whole four-year-old life._

_“You’re obsessed Bobby. And hanging out with these people, especially that John fellow, it’s not doing you any favours. And this library? Look at all these books. They are not the books of a normal person.”_

_“I think normal sailed off the day Karen died. And don’t you criticize me about how I live my life. We might have avoided all this if you had shared more from the start.”_

_Mommy looks really mad. She looks at Caroline again and then steps really close to Uncle Bobby. “Karen made that choice. And it isn’t the same thing. This stuff, that thing that got her, we’ve never dealt with that before. And I’m sorry that you feel betrayed, but Karen wanted to keep you away from it. She wanted a whole life away from it. That’s why you two moved so far away to begin with.”_

_“And then we lived happily ever after. Oh wait . . .”_

_“Bobby, I’m not kidding about this. I won’t watch you do this to yourself, I won’t let you drag my family into it with you.”_

_“I never asked you or your family to interfere. You feel so strongly about it, there’s the door. But don’t you ever think to order me around, Elizabeth. I’m not one of your Council members.”_

_Mommy is so angry that her face is red now. She doesn’t even say goodbye to Uncle Bobby, just tells Caroline to put on her coat so they can leave. Caroline is wide-eyed and frightened because even though she doesn’t know what they were fighting about, she knows that it was very bad._

_“Goodbye Uncle Bobby.” This goodbye is whispered down at Uncle Bobby’s feet. He kneels down in front of her and Caroline feels the edge of his hat bump the top of her head. Uncle Bobby is serious-looking with a big bushy beard, but Caroline likes that about him. Her Daddy used to have a beard but now he walks around with something called Goat’s Tea on his face. It’s not a real beard and Caroline thinks it looks funny._

_“Goodbye darling.” Uncle Bobby pulls on a strand of her hair and she gives him a funny look for it. But then Mommy calls her again and she gives him a quick hug and a kiss. She likes Uncle Bobby, even though he and Mommy always fight. She likes him a lot and she likes visiting his house. But that year is the last time Mommy takes her there._

_Caroline Forbes is four-years-old when she learns family is conditional._

~*~

Caroline is restacking the books in the library at about one in the afternoon. Her morning has been uneventful. Her breakfast was finished quickly and then came time to take Rumsfeld for a walk. She thinks it would amuse people to see the mighty Caroline Forbes trailing after a scruffy looking dog with a Pooper-Scooper in hand. But what other people think fails to bother her nowadays. Rumsfeld is all she has left, and she would take care of him best she could. And if that means scooping poop, then she’ll scoop poop.

Her arrival home is quiet. Rumsfeld’s let out into the backyard and she goes about transcribing her notes from last night. Then she has no choice but to start restacking the books. It is a long process, because she has pulled many resources from many places. Uncle Bobby’s organizational system can’t be beat, and she remains faithful to it. Restacking takes time, but it fills hours that would otherwise be spent lamenting things that could not be changed.

She is up on the ladder, restacking books from the top shelves when one slips through her fingers. Caroline squeaks in alarm, trying to grab the book before it crashes to the floor but she cannot reach it in time. A hand snakes its way into her vision and catches the book before it hits the floor. The owner of the hand moves so she can see his face and she is treated to the sight of warm blue-green eyes and the sweetest smile she has ever seen.

“Drop something?” His voice is soft and teasing. She allows herself one moment of shock before she snatches the book back from his hand and returns to her stacking.

“Go away Sam,” is all she says. She does not have to look to know that he will not obey her. He has become damn near impossible these past eight months and nothing she says affects him. Caroline considers this unfair since he affects her so greatly.

“We need to talk.” Another voice announces from behind her, a voice she knows well. She slams the last book home and then stomps her way back to ground level. She graces both intruders with a nasty glare and turns abruptly towards the kitchen. It’s time for lunch.

“I don’t need anything from or with you,” she throws over her shoulder. “And I could care less if you need anything from me. You know where the door is, Cas. Let yourself out.”

“So stubborn,” is the only reply, and this too is full of warmth and fondness. The familiarity of the tone and the memories it evokes make her want to tear her hair out and sob herself to sleep. But she doesn’t do that. She swallows her screams before they can erupt out of her throat and turns her attention to making lunch.

“What are we having?” Sam is right behind her and still smiling that ridiculously adorable smile of his. Her eyes flick his way and her heart jumps into her throat. But the past is too close for comfort and the anger is ever present.

She moves to the refrigerator without uttering a word. She hears Sam sigh from somewhere behind her and the sounds of chairs scraping across the floor as her unwanted guests seat themselves at her table. Her hand tightens on the fridge handle as the frustration bubbles close to the surface. Stubbornly she stares at the contents of the fridge, finally grabbing the ingredients for a turkey sandwich. She feels eyes on her back as she moves about the kitchen, silence hanging heavy in the air.

Until: “Will you continue to live in exile for the rest of your life?”

Caroline slams the mayonnaise jar on the counter with more force than necessary. With jerking motions, she pulls out a plate and two slices of bread and determinedly makes her sandwich. She is spreading mayonnaise over the bread when Cas intrudes yet again: “Bobby would be very disappointed with you.”

This makes her laugh, a sharp, bitter sound. “You’re one to be concerned with what would upset Uncle Bobby,” she tosses over her shoulder. “I don’t think you’re in any position to pass judgement-you either, Sam. But then again, that is what you guys do best, isn’t it?”

Sam is suddenly at her back, with his hand on her shoulder. She goes still, stiffer than a statue, and stifles the urge bury a knife into the offending hand. “Would you have preferred that I stayed in Hell?”

The question is meant to shame her. It does the opposite. “I would have preferred that you hadn’t given in to start with. But it looks like what I prefer doesn’t really matter. It’s the story of my life.”

“Caroline-“

“No!” She throws down the turkey and gives up her pretence. She turns on her heel and shoves Sam away from her. “We spent the better part of a year talking about free will and making your own destiny. Was I the only person who believed in it?”

Castiel is looking at her with soulful eyes and it takes a lot of willpower not to scratch them out. “We went through many ordeals last year, and our faith was tested. Perhaps we lost it, somewhere along the way. But our presence here shows how our sacrifices were honoured. He was with us, even if we didn’t feel His presence.”

Caroline glares at both angels challengingly. “Where was His presence when my uncle died?”

Castiel is silent, but his face is disapproving. Sam gives her a pained look. “God isn’t here to stop people from dying.”

She snorts and turns back to her sandwich. “Sure, unless their last name is Winchester.”

“Caroline . . .” Sam appears to be without words and she’s grateful. She desperately needs them to leave, to give her back some semblance of peace. But their visits and her dreams- not to mention Dean’s increasingly aggressive overtures at making contact with her-all these things are crowding her. Caroline feels a tightness in her chest that she knows is more imagined than real, but still she can’t find relief. She thinks that soon she will no longer be able to breathe at all. It’s troubling.

“Please, go away.”

More sighs sound from behind her. Both angels are resigned, but she knows they will leave.

“Dean is coming.” This is Sam’s parting comment. She only shrugs and turns back to making to her sandwich.

Castiel appears at her elbow and places a hand on her back. He gives her a meaningful look and says: “He isn’t the only one.”

They are both gone in a blink of an eye. Caroline gasps in air, her body shaking with relief and despair at their departure. Rumsfeld is scratching at the back door, wanting to be let back into the house. She moves to open the door, Castiel’s final words weighing heavily on her mind.

Caroline shivers in fear, opens the door, and envelops her most loyal dog in a tight hug.

~*~

_Caroline Forbes is twelve years old and crouching by the top of the stairs as her parents shouted below. She’s tall for her age, taller than her friends, but everyone says the others will catch up to her soon. It still makes her feel weird and gawky and Caroline desperately wishes that ‘soon’ will end up being sometime this week. With all that’s going with her parents, Caroline just wants to be normal in some small way._

_“Don’t even think about it! You do whatever the hell you want with your little friend and his family, but Caroline is not going to be a part of it!”_

_“She’s my daughter too!” It is unusual to see Dad yell. All her life, Caroline’s father seemed to be the calmest of the pair. He stayed home and took care of the house and Caroline while Mom worked. Caroline never thought it odd until she noticed that it was the other way around with most families. Of course, Mom is the Sherriff of Mystic Falls and therefore far more special than other people’s moms. But looking down at her father now, Caroline understands that years of keeping his cool has led Dad to this breaking point. It is hard enough to be married to a woman as forward and demanding as Mom, Dad wasn’t even allowed to let Caroline share his last name. Imagine her surprise on the day she found out that most children had their father’s last name, not their mother’s. But then again, Caroline’s Mom is the Sherriff and is therefore special._

_But none of her specialness makes Mom a good wife, or a good mother. She’s gone too much, and when she is home, Mom is quiet and irritable. Mom wants things to be a certain way, expects her family to be a certain way, and she never fails to find something that is not to her liking. Caroline is well aware that she frustrates her mother completely. Caroline is girly, with bubble-gum dreams and pink princess ambitions. Her need to be popular, to have fun, and to be admired irks Elizabeth Forbes in many ways._

_Dad is to blame for some of it. She has spent her life with her father, and he’s the one that buys the pink dresses, the strappy shoes, the hair products, the makeup, and whatever else her little heart desires. He is the one that listens to her prattle on about joining the middle school pep squad, about her friends, and even about the first time she noticed a boy without thinking of the cooties first. Dad has given in to Caroline at every corner, fed her dreams of being queen bee, and enabled her quest to the prettiest girl in town. Mom is the only one to ask what Caroline plans to do after the prettiness wears off while Dad quietly assures her it won’t._

_That is the key difference between her parents. Mom always looks at rock bottom and Dad always looks to the skies. Not one of them dealt in the happy medium, the middle ground. It’s all or nothing with them, always has been._

_But now they are determinedly stuck at the nothing._

_“She’s a Forbes!” Mom shouts back, her voice dropping into that deadly low tone she often employs at work. “She belongs in Mystic Falls. Or are you planning on breaking that promise too?”_

_Dad stops and looks pained. “Elizabeth, she’s a child-“_

_“Who has had everything handed to her by her over indulgent, faithless father!” Mom’s losing her composure, tears leaking through narrowed eyelids. “You’ll just turn her into a completely useless Barbie replica who believes her looks will get her through life. She needs more than that. She is more than that!”_

_“And you’re going to give it to her?” Dad is gathering steam and looks ready to go toe-to-toe with his formidable wife for the first time. “You, who’s never around? How are you going to turn her into anything? You’ve been waiting for this opportunity her entire life! Take her away from me and just turn her into another mindless robot, like one of your deputies. Who cares if the girl has dreams of her own? Who cares if she wants something more than what this town has to offer? She’s a Forbes and she has a legacy to fulfill! I won’t do that to my daughter!”_

_“You don’t have a choice!” Mom is right in Dad’s face and screaming at him. “You can break faith with me, but you know you can’t break with the Council. Caroline’s not going anywhere.”_

_“Then neither am I.”_

_Mom laughs, a bitter sound that is cruel in a way Caroline never knew her mother could be. “No, you’re gone. If I have to run you out of this town myself, you’re gone. I won’t have you flaunting your scandals and deviancy around this town. Not while I’m alive.”_

_“You’re not God, Lizzie.”_

_“I’m Sherriff, and a Forbes. And that’s a hell lot more than you can say.”_

_There is more, but she doesn’t stay to listen. Caroline slinks away from the staircase and goes back to her room. She throws herself on her bed, knows her father will be gone by tomorrow, and that her life will never be the same again._

_Caroline Forbes is twelve years old when she officially gives up on family, because they have given up on her._

~*~

“All right class, everyone in their seats!”

Caroline blinks and looks down in confusion. She is wedged into a small desk, her knees banging up against the bottom of the desktop. Her eyes wander around the room, she realizes she is back in Miss Sheridan’s kindergarten class, and surrounded by twenty five-year-old Carolines, all pretty in pink with their hands clasped firmly together on top of their desks.

“Thank you class, that was excellent,” Elena is perky and sweet as she takes her place by the front chalkboard. Caroline notes that she is wearing a set of horn-rimmed glasses that she doesn’t need and is clad head-to-toe in awful teacher tweed.

“What the hell is going on?” she demands.

“Okay class, time to review,” Elena continues on as if Caroline hasn’t spoken, as do all the other little Carolines. “We’re going to go over the letters we learned this week. Let’s start off with Caroline. Caroline, what does ‘B’ stand for?”

“Bad dream,” Caroline responds sourly.

“Shhh!” comes the command from the little Caroline on her right. “She didn’t ask you. And stop interrupting so much. We’re trying to learn.” The little Caroline punctuates this remark with a raising of the eyebrows coupled with an impressive roll of the eyes. Caroline feels affronted and glares down at the little-mini-her. The little Caroline only widens her eyes and makes an exaggerated face. Adult Caroline comes to the realization that she was quite a brat at that age.

“Don’t blame her age,” Elena warns from the front and then turns back to her other pupils. “And yes, go ahead Caroline.”

“’B’ is for Bennett,” comes a voice from somewhere in the back.

“Excellent! Carry on, what’s next? Caroline?”

“’D’ is next. ‘D’ is for Donovan!”

“What happened to ‘A’ and ‘C’?” Caroline asks sourly. She is ignored, though little Caroline on her right gives her a very dirty look.

“Good! Next?”

“’F’, ‘F’ is for Forbes!” This is shouted and causes all the other little Carolines to break out into whoops and giggles. Adult Caroline can only roll her eyes while Elena preens proudly by the chalkboard.

“Excellent! Excellent! Oh, yes? Caroline?”

A young Caroline in the row behind her jumps to her feet and says shyly, “’F’ is for Fell too, isn’t it?”

“Of course it is! My, this class is certainly on the ball today. Keep going! What’s next?”

“’G’!” shouts the little Caroline who told Adult Caroline off before. “That’s for Gilbert!”

“’H’ is for Honeycutt!”

“You mean Honeybutt!”

Another eruption of giggles claims the class. Adult Caroline sighs and thumps her head down on her desk.

“’H’ is for Hamilton too!”

“No, that’s ‘L’ for Lockwood-Hamilton.”

“But the last, last name is Hamilton, so it’s ‘H’!”

“Girls, girls! Let’s not fight. You’re both right, in your own way. That’s a good example for both ‘H’ and ‘L’. Now, let’s see if we can do the rest.”

“Lockwood is ‘L’!”

“’M’ for McCullough!”

“And ‘S’ is for so, so many!”

More giggles. Adult Caroline groans. Snotty little Caroline on her right glares.

“Sulez!”

“Saltzman!”

Adult Caroline raises her head and glares at Elena. “Salvatore.”

All the other little Carolines fall silent. A look to her right shows that Snotty little Caroline is no longer sneering, but actually looking quite sad. Elena sighs, puts down her chalk, and walks down the aisle until she reaches Adult Caroline’s desk. Elena squats down and looks into her eyes. “We haven’t done ‘C’ yet.”

“You skipped ‘C’,” Caroline reminds her primly.

“Because it’s the most important,” Elena tells her. “You need to remember it, out of all these things, ‘C’ is most important.”

“’C’ for Caroline?” Caroline guesses, her mood despondent for a reason she can’t name.

Elena smiles. “Always, but for today, ‘C’ is for something else. ‘C’ is for covenant.”

Caroline blinks and frowns. “Huh?”

“Covenant,” Snotty little Caroline repeats with a flip of light blonde hair and another roll of blue eyes. “You should write it down.”

Caroline growls at the obnoxious brat and stares mutinously at Elena. “I was not this annoying at five,” she grumbles.

Elena smiles, laughs, and pats her hand. “Sure.”

Caroline slumps back into her chair. “Is it too much to ask for one night’s rest?”

Another pat on the hand. “Covenant. It’s important.”

~*~

Caroline wakes when Rumsfeld pads to the top of the bed and begins to whine softly in her ear. The sounds penetrate the walls of her dream world instantly, pulling her through the fog and right into consciousness. She’s not immediately alarmed by his actions, however rare they are. Rumsfeld enjoys his sleep time and only willingly interrupts it for something urgent.

“What’s the matter?” she mumbles, pushing away thoughts of Elena and the niggling feeling that she has forgotten something. Rumsfeld immediately stops his whimpers, nudges her cheek with his nose, and then jumps off the bed to go scratch at the door. Caroline shakes her head at this behaviour, turning to check the clock as she pulls herself out of bed. She’s surprised to see it is so late in the morning. She’s been asleep for well over ten hours, but feels as tired as ever. These dreams are slowly but surely sucking the life out of her.

Caroline stumbles out of the covers, pausing only to grab her robe before joining Rumsfeld at the door. After she pushes the door open, the dog bounds out into the hallway and races down the stairs, yipping excitedly. His actions draw a smile from her and Caroline lets herself indulge in a moment of pure adoration for her dog before she follows him down the stairs and into the kitchen.

“Is that seriously what you wear to bed? Dude, we need to have more sleepovers.”

Dean Winchester is seated at her kitchen table, feet up on the edge, newspaper open to the sports section, and looking quite at home. Caroline can only manage to blink stupidly at him, her brain very reluctant to start dealing with all the implications and complications presented in Dean’s appearance. Several scathing recriminations flash before her eyes, but the flood is too large and Caroline’s mouth cannot decide which words to form.

He grins, entirely too pleased by her reaction, and then winks provocatively at her. She remembers his greeting and scowls furiously as her hands scramble to pull her robe close. Though not as scandalous or skimpy as her nightwear had been in her teenage years, Caroline certainly doesn’t go to bed clad head to toe in a high-collared Victorian-styled nightgown. Her t-shirt is plain blue and tight-fitting, riding up to allow her belly button to peek through. Her shorts are black and shorter than the ones she used to wear to cheerleading practice. The summer heat is her excuse for all the bared skin. She has company-appropriate pyjamas somewhere in her closet, but hasn’t had need of them in a long while. Aside from Rumsfeld, she’s basically been alone.

She likes it that way.

Caroline ties her robe together in a tight knot at her left hip. She tosses a “pervert” over her shoulder, taking care that her tone conveys only the highest level of disdain, before turning her back on him completely. She has been ignoring him for the past eight months; she sees no need to stop now. Rumsfeld has no such qualms about Dean’s appearance; he trots over to the man and immediately offers up his head for petting and scratching. Caroline observes this out of the corners of her eyes, turning away quickly when she thinks she is in danger of being caught. She decides to forgo the doling out of dog food as Rumsfeld has left her feeling a little betrayed. She makes for the coffee machine, stopping abruptly when she sees it is already on and brewing away.

“It’s that gourmet import crap you like,” Dean calls from the table. “Fill up and then go get ready. We’re going out for breakfast, or lunch if we can’t find a place still doing breakfast.”

He’s being deliberately presumptuous; it was one of her pet peeves, and he knew it. This whole escapade-breaking into her house, making her coffee, playing with her dog-it is all a blatant attempt to get a rise out of her. And it’s working pretty well.

She grabs a coffee mug from the cabinet, sliding her eyes his way. “How’s Lisa?”

She can be as petty as he can. Dean’s eyes narrow and there’s anger brewing underneath the surface. Caroline’s humming to herself as she pours a cup of coffee and then places the pot back on the counter. She turns around, raises the cup to her lips, and gives Dean a challengingly look over the rim.

“Don’t start,” is his only warning. But his words have the opposite of the desired effect. Caroline feels her own anger (constantly simmering just below the surface these days) start to bubble up inside her.

“I forgot how pigheaded you are,” she sneers. “Of course, I’m not allowed to mention Lisa. I’m not allowed to mention anything of importance because it might make you regret giving up the perfect life that others died to keep safe for you-“

“Caroline, we are not doing this again,” Dean’s eyes warn of danger, but Caroline doesn’t care. He’s the one showing up where he clearly isn’t wanted. He’s the one pushing on the boundaries she has carefully constructed around herself since the moment of her uncle’s death. He should feel ashamed, he should feel guilty. In that moment, Caroline wants nothing more than to rip Dean to shreds and scatter the pieces to the wind.

“But maybe we were wrong,” she continues, slamming her coffee mug forcefully onto the countertop. The hot liquid spills over the rim, burning her hand. But she takes no notice, shaking the coffee off as she stalks to closer to Dean.

“Maybe you never really wanted that life, that stability, that happiness. You’ve always been a love ‘em and leave ‘em type, right?” Caroline’s hands go to the knot she previously tied in her robe, loosening it and pushing it back on her shoulders. The skimpiness of her nightwear bothers her no longer; in fact, it’s just what she needs. She puts one toned leg in front of the other until she is able to press the front of her body flush against his. “Is that why you’ve come back here?” she asks, mouth dangerously close to his. “You come looking for a quick, blonde fix?”

Dean’s face is stony with anger. Caroline wants to push, feels the need to push him, until he surrenders. She snakes her arms around his waist, pulling herself even closer to him. Blue eyes lock on hazel ones, and she ignores the warning there. Caroline goes up on the tip of her toes and presses her mouth against his unwilling lips.

His hands shoot to her arms and grips them painfully. She pulls back and looks at his face, but she sees none of the shame or guilt she had been trying for. Dean’s face is full of wrath and his eyes alight with rage.

“Fine, you want to do this? Let’s do it.” His hands drop to her waist and in the next second she is airborne. Dean dumps her none too gently on the kitchen table and Caroline gasps, more from shock than from pain. Rumsfeld explodes in a barrage of barking, but he obviously cannot decide which human to berate. His barks subside into whines and he scuttles under the table for cover.

Caroline barely has time to process this as Dean’s hands find their way to her knees. He slides his fingers to the back of her kneecaps, grasping her calves in a firm hold before yanking her to the edge of the table. Caroline forces back a touch of fear, unwilling to break so quickly. Dean parts her legs and steps in between them, moving his hands back up to her hips before smashing his mouth on hers.

None of it is real. There is no desire behind these actions. It is a play she started and now it has gone beyond her control. She should have known better than to play chicken with Dean Winchester of all people, but her frustration at his intrusion won’t let her back down just yet. She kisses back, mouth grinding against his with painful force. Her hands fly up to his bare arms, nails digging and gouging for blood more so than pleasure. Her resolve is shaking every second this continues. She is naturally stubborn, but Dean can outdo her any day of the week. He will win this battle, she knows he will, but she can’t let it go so easily.

It is only when he starts pushing her back, starts trying to place her back against the table top, that she gives up the fight. She can’t have guys looming over her, can’t stomach it since the days she spent fleeing from the wreckage of Founders’ Day. No matter who the guy, no matter if she wants him desperately; having guys hover over her, granting them the power to hold her down and keep her there, it never ceases to bring forth the memories of that night. It is the only thing she can’t abide; the one thing that she fears above almost all else.

It takes only the first muffled cry to pull Dean back. His lips leave hers and his hands release her hips. Caroline pushes him back as she gasps in much needed air. Dean retreats quietly to the other side of the kitchen, his own chest heaving as he stares her down. Tears of humiliation and frustration prick at her eyes. Her hands shake as she pulls her robe closed again. She finds that she can’t look at Dean and so her eyes drop to the floor. She has messed up once again. Caroline needs to push things, to test the limits. But she never knows when to pull back. She pushes until things are completely out of her control and then she’s left scrambling to gather her dignity. It is her one tragic flaw.

Dean watches her silently; she can feel his eyes on her. The anger and the accusations have boiled away, leaving only awkward tension. Rumsfeld whimpers pathetically from his spot under the table and Caroline feels like an idiot because she’s frightened her guard dog.

She hears a sigh and then footsteps. Dean’s boots interrupt her view of the floor. “I won’t pretend that I don’t miss Lisa if you won’t pretend that this is all a lot more about Sam than it is about me.”

Hearing his name jars her. Thoughts and feelings she wouldn’t even admit to herself filter through her brain. Of course Dean knows. She thinks that he has always known.

“It’s not fair,” she mutters tearfully. She raises her head and looks Dean straight in the eye. “Not at all.”

He raises his right hand to cup her face, callused thumb stroking her cheek gently. “He thinks you’re mad because of Bobby,” Dean reveals with a ghost of a smile.

Caroline snorts and shakes her head. “All those brains but hardly a lick of common sense.”

“And you’re certainly not feeding this suspicion of his in any way,” Dean grins at her. “But you’re right; Sammy’s horrible with the subtext. You should talk to him.”

“I can barely stand to look at him.”

Dean lets out a breath of air, dropping his hand to the table. He leans in close, stops when his forehead touches hers, and gives her a most serious look. “I love you, Caroline Forbes,” he says gravely. “Probably have loved you since I met you. You’ve only been around for five years, you’re not related by blood, and sometimes you talk too much-but I love you. You are the only bit of family I’ve got left and you will not push me out. You’re the closest thing I’ve ever had to a sister, asides from Samantha.”

The old nickname achieves what Dean hoped it would. Caroline giggles, a few short giggles that she squashes as quickly as possible. But she can’t keep the smile from her face or the blush from her cheeks. Dean wraps his arms around her and holds her tightly until she relents and hugs him back. He releases her a bit reluctantly, pressing a kiss to her right temple. Rumsfeld pokes his head out, a questioning whine his only contribution. Dean smirks at the dog, stepping back from Caroline before bending down to pat the dog’s head fondly.

“Crazy mutt,” Dean mumbles and Rumsfeld yips in reproach. Caroline feels a smile threatening to break out at the sight of Hunter and dog looking so . . . domestic. Dean catches her eye and it seems he knows what she’s thinking because he coughs and steps back from Rumsfeld. “You can go now,” he tells her.

Caroline blinks her eyes, confused. Dean shakes his head and points to the stairs. “Go get ready,” he clarifies. “I want pie.”

Caroline snorts, but complies by jumping off the table. “Like that’s new,” she shoots at him with piercing look. “And I don’t remember agreeing.”

“Funny, I don’t remember asking,” Dean arches a brow at her. “Go get dressed Caroline. Time to get back to normal.”

“What part of this has ever been normal?”

“Everyone’s got their own version of normal,” Dean shrugs. “Ours is just a bit unique. And you’re not getting out of it. Go get dressed.”

She debates arguing with him, but doesn’t have the stomach for it. Their whole encounter has left her feeling discombobulated and awkward. She’s spent so long being angry at him, for no other reason than he took Uncle Bobby’s death badly. She supposes they have all taken it badly, each in their own way. Her way includes a lot of self-imposed exile and misdirected fury.

“Caroline,” Dean’s voice jars her from her thoughts. She glances up, flashing him a blank face. “Go get changed,” he repeats, this time with barely concealed mirth. She purses her lips, struggles to gather the pieces of her dignity, and flounces up the stairs without another word. Dean’s laughter is loud and meant to follow her up to her room. She grumbles a few curses, not loud enough for him to hear, and stomps into her room.

She peers into her closet before pulling out a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. She remembers when it used to take her a whole hour to decide what she was going to wear. Back when colour coordination and fashion labels were all that kept her apart from the hordes of ‘unpopular’ kids at school. She remembers being so above everyone else, her outfits outshining all others due to her dedication and perfectionism. Every hair was curled and set in the right place, each piece of clothing worked well with the rest, all accessories accentuated what she wanted accentuated, and her shoes were the envy of every teenage girl in Mystic Falls. There’s no point now. Her life is now about comfort, utility, and good running shoes.

She ambles into her bathroom, now looking forward to her outing in spite of herself. She flicks on the light switch and promptly drops her clothes in shock. She’s grateful that her squeak was low pitched enough not to draw Dean’s attention from downstairs. The sight before her is disturbing and sends chills running up and down her spine. She steps forward, shaking hand reaching out to touch the lipstick smeared mirror. Her index finger comes out and begins to trace the letters on the glass. Her eyes drop to the counter and she sees a tube of red lipstick left uncapped next to the sink.

It is her lipstick. And it is her writing. Caroline raises frightened blue eyes and takes in the message she left for herself sometime during the night.

COVENANT.

~*~

_Caroline Forbes is hedging towards her seventeenth birthday and is attending her third funeral in ten months time. First it had been Elena’s parents, then Mr. Tanner, and now Ms. Bennett, Bonnie’s grandmother. The people in her town are dying at an alarmingly fast pace, and Caroline’s concerned because no one seems all that worried by it. Sure, people are sad and shed tears at the appropriate times, but they aren’t fazed by all this. But she is, and she wishes she wasn’t. Caroline wishes for many things, but none of these wishes ever comes true._

_She wishes her mother wasn’t her mother-at least, wasn’t the mother that she was, or failed to be. She wishes her father wasn’t so absent all the time, because she’s really missed him this past year. She wishes she wasn’t so selfish, because Elena’s pain from last year only intensifies her irritation with her own parents instead of diminishing it with reflective gratitude. She wishes that she doesn’t go to bed each night, fervently hoping to wake up in Elena’s body so she can be the golden girl for a change._

_She wishes Matt wasn’t still in love with Elena, wishes he would look at her like she sometimes catches him looking Elena. She wishes Elena’s parents hadn’t died so Elena would be like she was last year, would still be with Matt, and then maybe Caroline would have ended up with the right Salvatore brother because Elena had been unavailable. She wishes she could remember her time with Damon, because most of that time has become gaping black holes in her memory and that makes her nervous. She wishes she had the nerve to ask him about it, or better yet, ask Stefan about it. She wishes she didn`t feel like something terrible had happened to her that she couldn`t remember. She wishes desperately Damon was just a bad boyfriend, but knows deep down he was so much worse than that._

_Caroline wishes for a lot of things, but mostly she wishes that her best friend wasn`t hurting so much right now. The ceremony is over and Bonnie remains at the gravesite whilst her family members walk away. Caroline moves to stand by her friend and frowns when she sees Elena hesitating to do the same. She reaches Bonnie and wishes she was better at comforting people because it seemed like that was all that she was going to do this year. Her hand slips into Bonnie`s, fingers curling around her friend`s in a gentle squeeze that is the best solace she can come up with._

_Bonnie raises a tear-stained face towards her and Caroline knows she is supposed to say something comforting at this moment, but she fails. Instead, her litany of wishes come tumbling out of her mouth, starting with her mother and ending with Bonnie`s pain. There isn`t a logical reason for this, but she can`t hold back. Bonnie listens to her with wide eyes and Caroline wishes she could just make herself shut up because none of this was likely to help Bonnie. But her mouth carries on and when she is finished, Caroline falls silent again._

_She stays there, standing next to a fresh grave while holding her friend`s hand. Bonnie`s eyes drop back down to where her grandmother had been laid to rest and heaves a great sigh. She tugs on Caroline`s hand and gives her a watery smile. “Can we go to your house?”_

_Of course they can, it isn’t even necessary to ask. Caroline goes to let Mr. Bennett know and isn’t surprised when he mumbles something like assent. Bonnie spends a total of three days at her house, hiding from the world underneath Caroline’s comforter. If Caroline’s mother thinks this odd, she says nothing about it. Mr. Bennett doesn’t call to check up on his daughter and Bonnie never tries to speak with him._

_On the fourth day after the funeral, one day after Bonnie has gone home, Caroline receives a call from her friend. Bonnie tells her that she’s going away, spending some time with her aunt out of state. Bonnie needs time away from Mystic Falls in order to heal. Caroline’s gut reaction is to ask Bonnie not to go. She’s in a new relationship with Matt and things are so uncertain-she doesn’t want Bonnie to be absent. But it isn’t about her and Caroline knows better than to ask._

_Bonnie leaves a few days after that phone call. She stops by Caroline’s house on her way to the airport, smiling faintly at the Sherriff before herding her friend up the stairs to the privacy of Caroline’s room. There, Bonnie pushes a small box into Caroline’s hands. Caroline is more than a little confused when she opens it to find a palm-sized, translucent-looking rock._

_Bonnie explains that it is a crystal, one that she’s been working on for the past two days. Caroline knows what she means by working on; Bonnie’s witchcraft is an acknowledged, but avoided issue between the friends. Caroline doesn’t pretend to understand and Bonnie doesn’t ask her to try. But today she presents Caroline with a gift wrought from her own magic. Caroline runs her finger down the smooth face of the circular crystal, absently asking Bonnie what it’s for._

_“You said you wanted to remember,” Bonnie says with a weak shrug. “If you really want to, then you can. Just prick your finger, place one drop of blood on the surface, and then sleep with it under your pillow for one night.”_

_Caroline looks at her friend in wide-eyed shock. Her finger lingers on the surface of the crystal and she has to bite her tongue from saying something stupid or hysterical. Bonnie was right; she did say that she wanted to remember. But now that the prospect was before her, Caroline isn’t so sure she can go through with it. Bonnie sees the look on her face and gives Caroline a sympathetic smile._

_“You don’t have to,” Bonnie assures. “I’m not sure if you should. I think you’re right and whatever happened with Damon might not be something you want to remember. But it’s your mind Caroline; no one should have the right to take it away from you. It won’t run out, you can keep it forever. If at any time, you really have to know-you can.”_

_Caroline Forbes is teetering towards seventeen when she decides she will love Bonnie Bennett forever, because Bonnie is the first person that ever really cared._

~*~

Dean stays for almost a full week and it is all Caroline can do to keep from throwing him out the door on the next hunt. Her self-imposed exile has spawned certain habits and behaviours in her, and she has found that she is far more comfortable when she has sole run of the house. Dean is unimpressed by what he calls her ‘hermit-chic’ lifestyle and she knows that he will be back in a short while. She supposes it was bound to happen someday and she knows that she has to work on getting used to having other people in her life once again. But still, the day she watches Dean’s beloved Impala roar out of her drive is the happiest in recent memory.

Dean’s presence has been dangerous. The sleepless nights and the bad dreams were harder to ignore when there was someone else around. Dean makes numerous comments on her sleeping habits, or lack thereof. The dreams with Elena are starting to increase in frequency and Dean claims that he hears her moaning and crying all through the night. Caroline seriously doubts that she’s been crying, but Dean and a pair of wet pillows seemed determined to prove her wrong.

Perhaps it would have been a good idea to alert Dean to her dreams. But Caroline isn’t sure what she could say. Before, she had been dismissing the dreams as a by-product of too much stress in too short a time. The fact that she can’t remember them afterwards left her feeling that they couldn’t be that important. But she has changed her mind since finding the word ‘covenant’ written across her bathroom mirror in blood-red lipstick.

The day Dean leaves, she falls upon her uncle’s library in a flurry of barely restrained panic. She starts pulling books off the shelves before she realizes that she doesn’t really know what to look for. She knows the word, but the most she can come up with off the top of her head is that movie with all the hot guys with magical powers. It takes a lot of restraint, but she pulls back from the urge to rip apart book after book and settles on a quick web search to start with.

She doesn’t consider why she’s looking into this. Her dreams with Elena never raised too many alarms before. But there is this ever present pull to find out more. She shouldn’t bother with all this. It is much easier to chalk it all up to weird dreams brought on by the stress of Uncle Bobby’s death. But whenever she thinks of ignoring the search, a feeling of dread washes over her. She doesn’t want to look into it, but she thinks she doesn’t have a choice.

She spends a couple of hours on the web, stopping only once to take Rumsfeld for his afternoon walk. The dog is disheartened from Dean’s departure and Caroline is starting to feel just a bit jealous of the sole surviving Winchester. She tells herself that she’s concerned with her dog’s welfare when she gives him a second helping of dog food and lets him take a three hour stroll instead of the usual one hour walk. She tells herself it’s not an attempt to buy back some of the love Rumsfeld has been shooting Dean’s way and before he gallops off to the backyard, Rumsfeld surrenders himself to a bout of hugs and kisses that is a smidge over the top. She leaves him trolling the back yard, barking and snapping at butterflies before abandoning them to chase swatches of sunlight across the grass.

Her web search does not yield much information. Most of the hits have to do with the Ark of the Covenant and the first Indiana Jones movie. She browses the sites, noting that the Ark was something made by Moses to hold the original Ten Commandments stone tablets. According to Steven Spielberg and Harrison Ford, the Ark is also some sort of weapon. Caroline goes through these sites quickly, already dismissing them as irrelevant. Besides, the talk of God and Commandments is like rubbing salt on open wounds. She isn’t ready to dive back into divine matters yet; in all honesty, she won’t ever be ready to do so again.

She goes back to Google and tries to look up the actual definition of covenant. ‘Contract with God’ is one of the first things that come up. Caroline glares at her computer screen, instantly annoyed with Wikipedia for marching forth with the one explanation she is trying to avoid. Caroline skips down the results page, forgoing sites that have to do with movies, music, and Halo, before settling on the link to the free dictionary. The basic definition is a binding contract, one that is unbreakable due to several consequences. People who enter into a covenant agree to do one thing or abstain from doing something in exchange for protection, power, or whatever else they want.

Caroline snaps her laptop shut, mind buzzing with information. Covenant doesn’t sound too different from a Deal, though the contract holder is more celestial than bottom-feeding. But no matter whether Above or Below holds the contract, Caroline isn’t happy with the way this is turning out. Deals, be they with demons or angels, always end badly. Uncle Bobby would blow his top to see her looking for information on anything remotely resembling a Deal. 

The same dread from before returns, stronger than she’s ever felt it. Caroline moans despondently and drops her head into her hands. She feels trapped though she doesn’t know why, but it’s like all the walls are closing in on her.

The knock on her door is so unexpected that Caroline nearly topples out of her seat at the sudden noise. Her surprise quickly turns to suspicion. Caroline gets to her feet slowly, eyes travelling the room before they fall on the shotgun resting against one of the bookshelves. She strides over, quiet as possible, and picks up the weapon. She slowly pumps the barrel, timing it so the clicking noise is mostly covered by the knocking of her unknown visitor. She turns to face the door, her entire body tense as she grips the shotgun tightly in slightly sweaty hands.

Her paranoia is not unfounded. Uncle Bobby had been a legend amongst most Hunters, mainly due to his close association with the Winchesters. Hunters from all over used to come asking for his help. But Caroline has put an end to all such visits after her uncle’s funeral. If anyone wants information, they are to call or email her with the details-they are never to visit. And most people are sensible enough to agree. There are no visitors up here, save for Dean (because of his pigheadedness) and Sam and Cas (who she couldn’t keep out no matter how much she tries). 

Even the few demons that came for her after Uncle Bobby’s demise left quickly. Her house is fortified against most demons, with hidden Devil’s Traps almost all over the house and weapons strategically concealed wherever she thought she would need them. Sam says this is paranoia gone haywire. She says nothing in return, but they both know her paranoia serves its purpose.

“Hello?” The knocking pauses and is replaced by an unfamiliar female voice. “Hello? Is anyone in there? My car broke down just up the road . . . I saw your sign-“

It is a perfectly innocent story, but it is pure bullshit. The sign for Singer Salvage Yard is beyond decrepit and Caroline had slapped a ‘closed’ sign on it months ago. Whoever is at her door is new at this, and very nervous from the sound of her voice. Caroline nears her front door, more curious than alarmed for the moment. She’s use to dealing with tricks and scams and plots, but they are usually better thought out than this. This person barely knows what she is doing, and while this amuses Caroline it does not prompt her to put down the gun.

A quick look into the peephole reveals a harried looking girl with dirty-blonde hair and tanned skin. For a second, Caroline remembers Jo Harvelle and compares her to this newcomer. Jo was shorter than this girl, but they share the same build. Slender, willowy-barely solid enough to pose a threat. But Jo was so much more than her appearance, and Caroline learnt long ago to not underestimate anybody.

The girl is nervous, as can be seen from her endless fidgeting. She hops from foot to foot, unaware that she is under scrutiny. Caroline watches carefully for a few minutes, ignoring the girl’s continued knocks and calls for help. The girl dances on and off the welcome mat, trying in vain to peer into the blocked windows. Caroline relaxes as the girl’s left foot moves just beyond the potted fern beside the welcome mat. The pot is her marker for the devil’s trap she has painted on the underside of the porch roof. Had she been a demon, her visitor would have never been able to move beyond the fern.

But that doesn’t mean the girl is in the clear. Caroline waits while the girl carries on for some five extra minutes before she huffs in irritation and moves to the top of the porch steps. “I don’t think anyone’s home,” she calls out to companions that Caroline can’t see. But the mere hint of others raises Caroline’s anxiety. She drops her left hand from the shotgun barrel and moves it to her back pocket, resting it against the bump of her cell phone. Dean will be furious if she neglects to call him. But Caroline doesn’t want to take the risk. Right now it looks as though the girl thinks Caroline isn’t home. She and her mysterious companions might just leave, and then Caroline will call Dean. She just has to wait.

“Seriously, I think she’s out,” the girl continues to say, looking somewhere just to the right of the porch. “Maybe we should come back later.”

“She’s here.”

However unfamiliar the girl is, the voice that finally answers her is far too familiar. Caroline feels her heart come to a complete stop. For one moment, she cannot breathe, she cannot see, she cannot think. Her brain stops and rewinds back nearly six years and she is back in her bedroom, laying on her bed, and watching a monster hover above her.

Damon Salvatore has found her at last.

~*~


	2. Part Two

_Caroline Forbes is just clear of seventeen, has been officially declared the queen of Mystic Falls (or just Miss Mystic Falls-whatever), and spent a glorious afternoon where she is dressed up in a fabulous dress, wrapped in the arms of the boy she thinks she loves, while the whole town cheers madly for her. She should be happy-she started off the day happy-but the night has shattered any hopes of serenity._

_Elena is kissing Matt in the middle of the street, not caring who saw her do so._

_Caroline doesn’t hear Bonnie curse, doesn’t really see Matt pull away from Elena, doesn’t see the twisted smirk on the face of her supposed friend-it’s like her mind has shut down and there’s only static reaching all her senses._

_The urge to run is the only thing that breaks through. She spins on her heel, hearing Bonnie scream something like ‘it’s not her’, but Caroline isn’t sure which ‘her’ Bonnie is referring to. She finds that she doesn’t really care and no matter how many times they shout her name, the urge to run never falters._

_She doesn’t know where she is going, doesn’t know where she should go. Her brain is barely able to process a complete thought. Everything that enters her mind is halted and trampled upon by the image of Elena and Matt kissing._

_Her lungs are burning as she stumbles into the town square. She’s on the opposite side of the Founders’ Day crowds and she stops because some sort of self-preservation instinct kicks in and she doesn’t want anyone to see her so hysterical. She turns and starts to retreat, her progress interrupted as she slams into a hard body. The collision jars her and she bounces off the stranger to land painfully on her backside._

_“Are you all right?”_

_She’s most definitely not all right and not in the mood to deal with anyone, even a concerned someone. But she’s not capable of communicating that right now. All she can do for the moment is sniffle pitifully and shake her head._

_“Hey, you’re Miss Mystic Falls. Caroline Forbes, right?”_

_And that’s beyond strange, because she is Caroline Forbes and every person living in this town knows who she is. Popularity aside, she’s a Founding Family member and the daughter of the Sherriff. Almost everyone knows her right off the bat._

_She looks up at the dense, but seemingly sympathetic stranger in front of her. He’s tall, with dark hair and dark eyes, and definitely not hard on the eyes. But she can’t really comprehend his hotness at the moment because all she sees is blonde hair and blue eyes and cheating lips._

_“I know your family,” the stranger continues to say as he grabs her by the hand to pull her to her feet. Caroline’s annoyed at his presumptuousness; she didn’t offer him her hand but he grabs her anyway. And once she’s back on her feet, he doesn’t let go. Not even when she tugs impatiently._

_“Let go,” she demands, voice scratchy from the tears._

_“Well, I knew them a long time ago,” he says, completely ignoring her. There’s an odd glint in those dark eyes, something that starts a chill creeping up her spine. “I knew them well before you were born. They left a lasting impression, let me tell you.”_

_He’s insane, she decides, because he can’t be more than twenty or twenty-one and certainly not old enough to have known her family well before she was born. She wants to be away, but he isn’t letting go._

_“Calm down,” he snaps at her, yanking her arm to drag her forward a bit. She gasps and trips over her own feet, crashing into his chest. His free hand goes up and buries itself in her hair. He brings his mouth down close to her face and she imagines that any passerby sees a young couple cuddling and kissing in a remote corner of the square. Caroline’s mind is overridden with fear and she tries harder to struggle, but he’s got his hooks in and she can barely move._

_“You Forbes, haven’t changed a bit,” he growls in her ear. “But I’m glad that I caught you. I’ve been imagining this moment for almost a hundred and fifty years. I’ve already been to see your mother, and you’re the last Forbes left in this town to deal with. I might go nation-wide next, but this might hold me for a while.”_

_She tries kicking and stomping on his feet, but it does no good. He laughs at her attempts to free herself, hand pulling painfully at her hair and jerking her head right back. Caroline’s eyes are filled with the night sky and she screams when she feels his tongue sliding up her throat. Something flickers in her mind’s eyes when he does this and Caroline is filled with an inexplicable sense of déjà vu, laced with fear._

_She thinks this is it. Caroline Forbes is going to die on Founders’ Day-betrayed by her boyfriend and best friend, and then murdered by some insane freak with a neck fetish in the town square because no one in the crowd had the common sense to turn around when she screamed. The stranger’s arms are tight around her body, and he squeezes them together so hard for a second she sees white spots and believes she will pass out._

_But the pressure’s gone the next second and Caroline winds up back on her butt again. Insane-Neck-Fetish guy is also on the ground, screaming bloody murder as he grabbed at his ears. It takes her a second to understand that she’s safe, but she doesn’t know why. The stranger is still screaming and it’s so obvious that he’s in terrible pain. Caroline’s breath catches in her throat as she tries to scuttle away from the shrieking freak, a scream erupting out of her throat when she feels hands on her shoulder._

_“It’s okay! It’s okay!” Caroline looks up to see one of her mother’s deputies standing behind her. She thinks his name is Everett, but she’s not sure because she doesn’t really make a habit of visiting her mother’s work. Another deputy (she won’t even pretend to know his name) is standing over the crazy guy and Everett goes to help him. She watches as they handcuff the guy and start to drag him off, Everett pausing to shout over his shoulder: “Miss Forbes, you should get inside somewhere. Your mother wouldn’t want you out on the street tonight.”_

_“Why?” she shouts after them, but gets no reply. The whole incident is bizarre in its intensity and the suddenness of its end has left her buzzing. She looks as the deputies make off with her would-be attacker, noting that other deputies seemed to be doing the same with members of the crowds. She’s still on her ass in the dark shadows of the town square and Caroline’s left with that overlooked feeling once more._

_But then the freak’s words come back to her and she remembers him saying something about visiting her mother. Horrible images assault her brain as she thinks of what he could mean. Caroline’s on her feet and running once more, this time with a destination in mind._

_She’s never gotten along with her mother. There’s always been this rift between, born out of her mother’s unspoken expectations and Caroline’s ambitions. They’ve never lined up like a mother and daughter should, and her father’s departure has made things all the more difficult. But she is Caroline’s mother, and despite their problems, there is love there. That love is what forces Caroline’s feet to keep moving in spite of the fact that she knows, deep inside, that she isn’t going to find her mother as she would like._

_The police station is within sight and Caroline’s pounding up the stairs like the Devil himself is on her heels. She pushes through harried officers and shouting people, heading right for her mother’s office. Carol Lockwood is there, standing in front of the Sherriff’s open door as she rails against a young deputy._

_“Who the hell is John Gilbert to tell you anything?” Carol shouts before her voice halts. Caroline’s eyes lock with the mayor’s wife and she reads the fear there. Caroline bolts for the open door, screeching wildly when hands reach out to stop her. “Caroline, no! You shouldn’t see her-Caroline!”_

_And she doesn’t see her, but she sees enough. The walls have been freshly painted with red splotches of colour. The furniture is all overturned, papers scattered everywhere. She can see her mother’s torso, clad in a bloodied police uniform, in the space between the filing cabinet and the desk. Caroline stops, the air driven out of her lungs, at the sight of her mother’s murder scene._

_Voices fade and her vision goes dark. Caroline blinks in and out of reality, coming to herself only periodically. Carol Lockwood is ever present, shouting orders around the police station like she’s the Sherriff. Sometimes there are hands prodding her, checking her pulse point, flashing lights in her eyes. She hears the words ‘in shock’ repeatedly but can’t make the connection. She also hears Carol Lockwood screaming into her cell phone, saying things like ‘where’s my husband?’, ‘what have you done?’, ‘why did you leave her like that?’, and ‘Liz is dead John! And it’s on your head!’_

_More and more people are scrambling into the station, screaming about this or that. It seems like there’s a lot going on, and when someone mentions Tyler Lockwood, Carol leaves her post to interrogate that person. It’s the first time since Carol had had Caroline bodily removed from her mother’s office that Caroline has been left alone. She’s feeling numb and her brain can’t comprehend everything that’s happened so far._

_She gets up and slips out the door before anyone notices. A lifetime of being overlooked in favour of someone else and Caroline’s glad for it for the first time. Her footsteps are shaky and she stumbles from time to time, but she keeps moving until she is far away from the police station, the screams, and the general chaos. She hears sirens and sees the fire engines speed by, but it doesn’t really register. Nothing’s important, not anymore._

_She’s at her house before she can even think of her destination and in her room not too long after that. Everything’s gray and unfocused, but she feels like she’s suffocating just being here. The dam breaks and the tears come, but not enough to render her useless. She packs her bag through a watery haze, shoving clothes and shoes and money haphazardly into her gym bag. She’s such a mess that she can barely walk in a straight line. She trips over her own feet on the way to the door, slamming into her vanity with enough force to bruise. She falls to the floor, taking jewellery, makeup, and various accessories to the floor. The pain in her hip from the collision forces to her stop, to catch her breath, and to calm before she makes for the door._

_She sits up, slowly, hands reaching for her bag when she sees something just beyond her foot. It’s Bonnie’s gift, the rock that will help her remember everything Damon made her forget. She looks at it for a second, unsure of what she should do. The rock seems to shine in the dim moonlight let in by her window, and it’s almost hypnotizing . . ._

_The house phone rings and the moment shatters. Caroline blinks and her breathing speeds up. The fear of discovery spurs her on; she grabs her bag and makes for the door again. But she pauses in the doorframe, holds still for one long minute. And before she can change her mind, she runs back into the room, grabs the rock from the floor, and races for the front door._

_Caroline Forbes is barely past seventeen when her life ends._

~*~

Damon is on her porch, knocking on her door.

Damon Salvatore is on her porch.

Damon Fucking Salvatore is on her porch and calling her out.

Caroline can’t breathe.

“Open up!” This command is accompanied by a good bout of hard knocking that has the door groaning in protest. “Caroline, I get this is a surprise and usually I’m all for playing games-but I’ve got shit to do and no time for Hide-and-Seek! You’ve had your ridiculously long vacation-it’s time to go home!”

She doesn’t want to look, but it’s like she can’t help herself. Her feet move forward of their own volition, and soon she’s up against the door. The knocking doesn’t stop and she feels the vibrations come through the door and shake her body. Her eye goes to the peephole and her heart goes from thumping wildly to stopping all at once.

He’s the same, even after all this time. She thinks that she knew he would be, but it’s still startling to see. He’s the same as he was on that Founders’ Day five years ago, and she’s completely different. Her hair’s longer, a bit darker now that she doesn’t dye it that extra shade of blonde anymore; and her facial features are sharper. She’s lost every trace of baby fat she ever had and the muscles she has now makes her cheerleader body look soft and dumpy. She supposes that’s what five years of demon chasing will do to a person-that and the bags under her eyes and the semi-permanent furrow in her brow.

But Damon-Damon is still Damon, right down to the leather jacket, jet black hair, and vivid blue eyes. The same face, the same dimples, the same smirk-nothing’s changed. She knows that it’s a part of what he is, one of the perks. She will age; her hair will turn gray, her skin will wrinkle, and her body will start to stoop. But he gets to be young and gorgeous forever.

It’s unbelievably unfair.

He stops knocking abruptly and leans down so that his face is level with the peephole. He knows she’s there; she knows that he knows-but she can’t look away. She watches, breath caught in her throat, as his smirk stretches into a full grin. There’s a flash of fang and that’s all she need to snap out of whatever trance she’s in. Caroline gasps and backpedals from the door. She brings the shotgun up, hugging the barrel to her chest with her right hand while her left scrambles to get her cell out of her pocket.

Dean. She thinks that she needs Dean. She doesn’t know how Dean will help, or if he’ll be in time to help. But she needs to let Dean know. She can’t handle this by herself. She was never good at handling Damon on her own.

“Caroline!” She cringes as his voice blares out again. She’s so scared that she’s shaking. Her fingers can’t get a good grip on her phone and she lets out a solitary sob of frustration and fear. Damon starts knocking again a minute later, but there’s another noise present that stops her cold. Underneath the knocking, Caroline hears what sounds like growling.

“Caroline, I’ve got no fucking patience today! Come on out, or I’ll teach Sparky here how to play dead like a pro.”

This is accompanied by a very familiar bark. Caroline stumbles back over to the door and looks out the peephole. And sure enough, Damon stood on her porch, far enough away from the door so she could see his hand clasped tightly around Rumsfeld’s collar. The unidentified girl is just off to the side, complaining about Damon’s maltreatment of the ‘poor dog’, but Damon ignores her. His gaze is steady on the door and his hand is tight on Rumsfeld’s collar.

Rumsfeld is practically bristling with anger, but he keeps abnormally still. Caroline watches in trepidation, wondering why her dog isn’t trying to get away from Damon. Rumsfeld hates strangers and he doesn’t let just anyone pet him. Damon’s doing something to him, something to keep him so still, and she’s frightened to think that Damon’s mind tricks extend to animals as well.

“Caroline,” Damon’s voice is song-like in quality and he tugs Rumsfeld’s collar just a bit. She panics and she fumbles with the locks and chains with her left hand. She’s not letting go of the shotgun just yet, Uncle Bobby had programmed that into her brain long ago. And as she struggles with the door, her brain starts to work once more. She knows the danger she’s in, knows that opening the door will put her back into Damon’s clutches (the exact position she’s been trying to avoid through her five years of exile).

She’s prepared for this. Uncle Bobby prepared her for this. She’s been ingesting vervain every day for nearly five years. Through a trick she’s picked up from Damon’s own family, she’s been mixing vervain leaves with her afternoon tea as soon as she managed to get the plant growing in Uncle Bobby’s old shed out back. He can’t compel her, and if he tries to feed on her-well, they’ve been down that road before.

But it’s the shotgun that’s most important.

She stops her frantic scrambling, stops to take a breath. She moves her right hand to the trigger, allowing the mouth of the gun to point at the floor. She’s careful, making sure that only the left side of her body will be seen when she opens the door.

Her hand pauses on the doorknob for a brief second. Caroline inhales deep, holds it, and then exhales sharply, forcing the air out through her clenched teeth. She grasps the knob and twists it quickly, before she could change her mind.

She opens the door slowly, leaning slightly against the edge of the door for support. It’s hard for her to raise her eyes, hard to meet his gaze head on, but she manages. He’s grinning full out at this point, ice blue eyes roaming over her figure. The eyes linger on her bare legs, a glint of appreciation apparent for her denim shorts, before they finally return to her face. She meets his stare with one of open hostility and it’s weird, but his eyes soften and she swears she sees something like affection washing over his features.

It makes her want to scream.

“Let him go,” she snaps at him, her voice quaking with an almost intolerable mix of anger and fear.

“What? No hug?” Damon rolls his eyes, but releases his hold on Rumsfeld’s collar before she can get too worked up about his comments. Her dog growls faintly, but doesn’t move from Damon’s side. “He’ll stay until I let him go. Invite me in.”

There’s no chance of that happening, and Caroline doesn’t care if Damon hasn’t released his control over Rumsfeld. The most important part was getting him to release the collar, but she can’t let him know that. Her eyes flicker over to the silent, blonde girl to Damon’s left, watching as the girl looked every which way but Caroline’s way. The girl didn’t look like a vampire, but then again, neither did Damon. But again, that’s a risk she has to take.

“Caroline, you know this has to happen,” Damon continues, mistaking her hesitation for more fear. “Invite me in. We have things we need to talk about.”

She glares at him, sets her mouth in a thin line, and then looks back down at Rumsfeld. She figures he’s a good enough distance away and then she heaves a sigh before pretending to give into Damon’s demands. She steps back from the doorway, watching as Damon came closer. He turns his head at the last second. She’s not sure why, and she doesn’t care. It works out perfectly for her.

“I told you I could do-“ She doesn’t let him finish. As soon as his head turns, Caroline silently swings the shotgun out from behind the door and up into her hand. She’s already primed the gun from before and it’s simply an act of pulling the trigger.

The shot rings out, cutting Damon off mid-speech. Her whole body’s vibrating from the recoil, but she knows that she’s got him right in the stomach. Damon emits a startled grunt before his body is propelled backwards by the force of the blast. The incident is severe enough that he loses his control of Rumsfeld, as evident by the explosion of barks coming from her dog the second Damon starts teetering backwards. The unknown girl is screaming in panic and Caroline doesn’t spare a second for her. She watches Damon hit the porch steps and tumble down them to the ground. Caroline darts forward and grabs Rumsfeld collar, pulling him into the safety of the house before the girl can register what’s happening.

Caroline retreats halfway behind her front door, not surprised when the girl flies off the porch to meet a newcomer as they both rush to Damon’s side. Stefan Salvatore is as timeless as his brother, but the look of pure shock on his face is so comical that Caroline can’t help but laugh. It’s a short laugh, because the past is always close at hand, and Caroline needs to call Dean if she wants these Salvatores away from her permanently. Of course, from the way Damon is spewing blood and groaning pitifully in her front yard, she doesn’t think she’ll have more than one Salvatore to contend with for a little while.

Stefan’s mouth continues to gape open. She rolls her eyes at him and then motions to his fallen brother. “I’ve been mixing vervain with the rock salt for years. He’s going to need a lot of help. So pick him up and get off my property. And don’t you even think about coming back, Stefan.”

She slams the door shut before he can reply.

~*~

_Caroline Forbes is nine days past Founders’ Day and standing uncertainly in the Singer Salvage Yard after a thirteen year absence._

_The past nine days have been worse than hell. She lost count of how many buses she jumped on, how many tickets she swapped, and how many towns she’s flown by. She’s left home without a plan and finds herself struggling three days after. The confusion and horror comes rushing upon her at that time and she checks into a relatively safe-looking motel for a night. She throws her bag on the bed, jamming a chair underneath the doorknob lest something a la Hollywood horror tries to happen._

_The bed is hard and lumpy, but it’s better than a bus seat. Her body’s creaking and sore after her flight and she’s quite dishevelled. The bathroom looks clean enough for a quick shower and as the clock nears midnight, Caroline’s sitting on the bed, clad in old sweats, wet hair hanging about her face as she stares down at Bonnie’s rock._

_She doesn’t remember anything from her time with Damon, and she desperately wants that oblivion to transfer to her memories of Founders’ Day. She’s got a three-day head start on everyone and she has no doubt that once the town pulls itself back together, someone will come looking for her. It might be her dad, it might be Bonnie-it might even be Carol Lockwood. Whoever it might be, Caroline wants them to stay away. She thinks if she never has to step foot in Mystic Falls again that she might just keep her sanity._

_But the fear and the horror is still too fresh. The blood red swatches on her mother’s office walls taunt her every time she deems to close her eyes. She thinks that though her time with Damon was horrible, it would be a welcome respite from her visions of her dead mother._

_As usual, her judgement is not that good._

_She pricks her finger, wincing at the pain as she squeezes just one drop onto the smooth surface of the crystal. The drop hits the crystal, shimmers, and then disappears from sight. Caroline, bleeding finger in her mouth, feels too tired to even blink at this. Once her finger stops bleeding, she sticks Bonnie’s rock under her pillow and throws herself down for a night’s sleep._

_She doesn’t remember when the flashes start, but once they do, they don’t stop. There are mundane things, like Damon cornering her in the town square and asking her to throw a party. There are even memories of walking around downtown with some weird compass thing because Damon asks her to. Some of the memories could be mistaken for sweet, romantic scenes. She remembers rolling around her bed, Damon kissing her nose, her cheeks, her lips, her neck . . . She remembers times of cuddling, of Damon wrapping his arms around her and whispering into her ear. It all seems so sweet._

_But it’s not. She remembers the insincere tenderness, but also remembers the death threats, the fights, the biting, and the blood. She remembers his anger, his violence, and the way he pulled her strings like she was some sort of puppet. But worst of all, she remembers that first night._

_She remembers the day of distant flirting, the final confrontation in the parking lot, and her enthusiasm to get him to her bed. She remembers taking him home, inviting him in, leading him up the stairs, and she remembers what happened in her bed._

_She remembers the first stirrings of passion, the way he made her feel. She remembers looking up at him, seeing him above her. She remembers watching his eyes change, the black veins that erupted across his face. She remembers screaming, she remembers him lunging forward; she remembers the biting and the bleeding. She remembers struggling, crying; she remembers him holding her hands, forcing her down; she remembers being absolutely terrified as her strength melted away. And finally, she remembers him **finishing** before she slipped away into unconsciousness. _

_Morning doesn’t come fast enough; Caroline wakes scared, sobbing, and wishing, for one whole minute, that she was dead. The memories of her mother fight now with the memories of Damon and she can’t tell which are worse. The kaleidoscope of traumatic images floats around her brain until finally she’s had enough. Caroline’s rushing for the toilet, stomach churning out everything inside._

_She’s back on the bus before too long, the memories she’s awakened following her everywhere. She’s back to fear, looking over her shoulder and glaring at everyone suspiciously. She sees him in every look, every smile, every turn of the head. Her brain is struggling, halting and proceeding in a haphazard fashion, trying to give a name to what she fears. ‘Damon’ isn’t good enough. ‘Damon’ doesn’t quite cover it._

_**Vampire.**_

_The word, the one she’s been avoiding since the beginning of the year, pushes its way to the front of her mind hours later. It’s waving its arms, hopping up and down, and Caroline imagines that everyone on the bus is giving her an exasperated look because did it seriously take her this long to figure it out? She’s giving that dumb blonde stereotype way too much to work with._

_But still, vampires? It can’t be real; she doesn’t want it to be real. But the fact remains that Damon Salvatore is a vampire, that weird guy who killed her mom and tried to attack her was probably also a vampire. Vampires. Vampires, vampires, vampires._

_And not a Cullen in the bunch._

_This stuff is beyond her. She’s Caroline Forbes, not Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and she cannot deal with vampires on top of a dead mother and a best friend who’s a witch with magical powers. It’s all too much, her brain can’t handle the information, and her gut knows that if she keeps running like this, something bad is going to happen._

_She needs help._

_And that’s how she ends up in South Dakota, standing uncertainly in the middle of the Singer Salvage Yard. The place is shabbier than she remembers, but she figures that thirteen years is a damn long time. A large part of her is amazed that she even made it here; Uncle Bobby has been out of the family for so long that it’s a miracle she remembers how to get to his house. But in all honesty, she hasn’t come for Uncle Bobby. She’s come for his library._

_Those books, the ones her mother didn’t want her seeing, Caroline remembers those books; long titles that her four-year-old brain didn’t understand and horrifying pictures that Uncle Bobby shielded from her eyes. She caught glimpses, here and there, of monsters and demons and other scary things that eventually repelled her from the books altogether. She remembers that she only went in there for the couch because Uncle Bobby would let her bounce all she wanted. She forgot about the books, forgot about the pictures, up until she realized that Damon Salvatore is a vampire and then it all came rushing back._

_She has to force herself to move forward, to climb the porch steps to the front door. She almost gives up once or twice on the short trip, but knowing she has nowhere else to go spurs her onwards. Caroline knocks tentatively on the door, eyes flitting over the covered windows and dirt-covered porch deck. The house is so quiet that she thinks he isn’t home, and judging from the obviously neglected porch, maybe he hasn’t been home in a while._

_She’s halfway to turning around when she hears the first lock snap open. It takes nearly three minutes of locks turning before the door even begins to hedge open. She sees a flash of distrustful blue eyes, a greying beard, and the ever-present trucker cap and she can’t help but smile tearfully at him._

_“Hi Uncle Bobby,” she whispers before he can speak. “I was just running away from home when I remembered your library. Got any books on vampires?”_

_A pause, and then: “Caroline?”_

_It is nine days past Founders’ Day and after she spends an hour drinking holy water to convince her uncle that she isn’t a demon, Caroline Forbes starts her life again._

~*~

Dean. She needs Dean.

The bravado she had summoned for Stefan is long gone and the longer she hears the three of them arguing, gurgling, and shouting from her front yard, the less stable she feels. She’s back to shaking and she’s not able to detach both arms from Rumsfeld. The dog is whimpering and grumbling, obviously not overjoyed by all the clinging but tolerating it nonetheless.

It takes about a minute of burying her face in Rumsfeld’s fur before she is able to reason again. Her hands are still shaking, but she manages to remove one arm from around Rumsfeld and pluck her phone from her back pocket. She collapses onto the stairs, Rumsfeld unable to make the motion smoothly with her, so she has to release him fully. The dog growls and grunts as he paces around the front hall, emitting a threatening rumble whenever a particularly loud sound comes from the outside. Caroline’s sad for the loss of something to cling to, so she picks up the shotgun and hugs it to her chest as she settles on the bottom step. The shock is starting to catch up to her again and she has to bend over to keep from hyperventilating. Her phone is held tightly in her lap and behind a curtain of blonde hair, Caroline unsteadily scrolls down to Dean’s number.

A sharp bark from Rumsfeld startles her, taking her attention away from her phone. She looks up and sees her dog wagging his tail and offering his head up for petting to none other than Sam Winchester. The angel grins at Rumsfeld before raising his eyes to meet hers. And for one second, a brief fleeting second, Caroline is relieved to see him.

But then he speaks: “You shouldn’t have done that.”

It takes a minute for the words to filter into her brain and then the anger returns, as hot as ever. “Are you fucking kidding me? You know who that is, Sam?”

Sam’s eyes are woeful and apologetic. “That’s Damon Salvatore. But you still shouldn’t have done that. You need to hear what he has to say. It’s what we’ve been trying to talk to you about for the past few months-“

“I don’t care!” The explosion is sudden and destructive. Caroline leaps from her seat and makes for the library. “I didn’t care then, and I don’t care now. And asking me to tolerate Damon Salvatore is not helping your case any. I can’t believe you, of all people, would ask me . . .”

Sam sighs, entering the room and taking a seat on the couch. “Caroline, I know this is hard-“

“Hard?” She says this with a bitter laugh. “Everything he put me through and you think this is ‘hard’? It’s not ‘hard’, Sam, it’s un-fucking-bearable. I can’t even stand the thought of him bleeding on my property, though it’s nothing less than he deserves. And you have the nerve to come in here and tell me that you think it’s ‘hard’ for me?”

“I’m sorry Caroline, but-“

“No buts!” she screams, any illusion of calm thrown out the door. “I can’t-I won’t! He’s the one who-the things that he did . . . I told you about them, all of them, at your own insistence! And now you’re telling me to what? Invite him in? Buddy around with that monster? Fuck, Sam, you really are different now, huh? You just don’t care any-“

He’s not Damon, but angels have their own speed. Sam’s got his hands cupping her face, lips pushing against hers, before she can even blink. And the stress of the day has been too much; Damon’s presence has wounded her too deeply. She whimpers, eyes closing and tears trailing down her face, before she just gives in and kisses him back.

It would be a lie to say that she hasn’t wanted to do this from the moment he came back. She used to think she could happily spend the rest of her lifetime doing this, because kissing Sam is so utterly pleasant that it’s almost like a high. She joked once that it was her own personal addiction and Sam laughed, vowing, in that case, to forever be her enabler. How she’s gone so long without it, she honestly doesn’t know. It’s sweet, exhilarating, and just so beautiful that her body shakes.

The floodgates open and she’s back where she started from, nearly four years ago, if not longer. Uncle Bobby didn’t like it, but he never once stopped her. She thinks it was because he was too happy to see her feeling something for someone. He called it moving on, but it’s more than that. It’s love, like she’s never felt it; love that set the hairs on her arms on end. It’s not the hot-burning lust she had with Damon, and so many boys before that. It’s not the safe, comfortable affection she had with Matt. 

It’s the first damn time in her life that she never felt like she had to compete with anyone. It’s the love that comes from understanding, of two lives touched by the same horrors and two people joined in their refusal to just die because everything is lost. It’s hot and cold, comforting and dangerous, uplifting and maddeningly, and warm and hurtful all at the same time. It has an intensity that could light a room on fire, but it was never so much that she lost herself to it. They loved quietly and completely, but he still betrayed her. But she was strong enough this time to know that it wasn’t her fault. It was his doing, this newfound strength of hers, and she used it each time he left. The pain was always there, flaring hot and hurtful almost every second of the day. But underneath it was the anger, the outrage that he would dare to do that to her. It’s that outrage, more than anything else, which keeps them apart today.

But he’s still Sam and she’s still Caroline, and it still feels right. For a whole minute, nothing else exists. It’s just her and Sam, kissing, and she can almost pretend like everything’s the way it should be.

But it’s not. Kissing Sam doesn’t change the fact that Uncle Bobby’s dead, that Sam’s an Angel of the Lord, that Dean’s back to endangering his life recklessly, and that the Salvatore brothers are in her front yard.

She pulls away before she is completely lost, but Sam doesn’t let her go. His face is buried in her shoulder and the tears come back because she knows this can’t last. “I thought you weren’t allowed to do that,” she reminds him softly.

He laughs, sounding bitter for the first time since his resurrection. “I’m not,” he replies, holding her tight for one more second before letting her go. She steps back, trying to put some distance between them, her previous anger forgotten in a flood of disappointment and heartache. She takes a few minutes to collect herself, belatedly becoming aware of the pounding on her front door. She flicks her eyes towards the front hall, mind snapping back to Damon Salvatore.

“I can’t let him in,” she whispers softly, still not looking at Sam.

“Then don’t,” he says stonily, turning his face away when she finally raises her eyes. “Cas is taking care of him, but you don’t have to let him in. But you’re going to have to talk to Stefan. Please Caroline; it’s more important than you know.”

She rolls her eyes and swallows a few shouts of recrimination before stomping towards her door. She’s not ready to give in just yet, not on the cryptic words of an Angel serving a God she no longer trusts. “Go away Stefan!” she shouts towards the door as she bends down to retrieve her shotgun.

“I can’t!” is the reply.

She stops, because there is something in Stefan’s voice that pulls at her conscience. Stefan, for all his urgency and volume, sounds utterly defeated. Caroline turns to glare at Sam, arching an eyebrow at him. He shrugs, walking towards her with a perfectly blank face. “I’ll go get Dean,” he says before blinking out. 

Caroline growls in frustration. She hates it when he does that! Rumsfeld trots by her, settling down in front of the door with an expectant look on her face. Stefan is still knocking away and the noise is starting to give her a headache. “Stop it!” she shrieks suddenly, frustration boiling far past her point of tolerance.

“I can’t!” is repeated, this time with a hint of annoyance as well.

Why were all males so frustrating? “Why not?” she shouts, readying her shotgun in case she needs to use it again. She decides that she doesn’t care what Sam says; she’s not inviting anyone in if she doesn’t feel like it. The Salvatore brothers and their emergency could go to Hell for all she cared. Caroline is long past the days where she lets other people dictate her actions.

“Because!” Stefan finally answers. “Because Bonnie is missing!”

She’s unlocked and opened the door in under ten seconds. Caroline stays well out of arm’s reach and just stares at Stefan in shock. His eyes run over her, much like his brother had done, but there was none of the appreciation Damon had exhibited. But, for reasons beyond her comprehension, the same, unwanted affection shines in his green eyes. He gives her a smile, one that takes her breath away with its barely concealed pain. Caroline feels her heart stop for one second and she takes a halting step forward, a barely formed question on her lips.

“Bonnie’s missing,” Stefan repeats, tears threatening in his unjustly gorgeous eyes. “Bonnie’s missing. And Elena’s dead.”

Caroline invites him in.

~0~


	3. Part Three

_Three months and fourteen days past Founders’ Day and Caroline’s trying to stop a war._

_It wasn’t her intention to make her visit to Uncle Bobby’s house last longer than a few days. She goes for information and for some guidance, but not for another home. But Uncle Bobby is just as stubborn as she is, and she has to admit that her chances of survival increase dramatically staying with him. He’s even managed to convince her to send a message to her father, though she refuses to speak to him. All of Uncle Bobby’s revelations about her hometown and her mother’s Council have opened Caroline’s eyes, and some things from her childhood suddenly make sense._

_Arguments that her parents had, ones that her father told her were nothing, come back to her and Caroline starts getting angry. Uncle Bobby makes the call, tells her father that she is safe and she doesn’t want anyone finding her. Her father is belligerent, threatening to come down there himself, and that’s when she grabs the phone. She screams into the receiver that if he steps one foot in South Dakota, she’ll leave and no one will ever find her. There are more screams after that, on both ends, and finally Uncle Bobby intervenes. It takes days, but her father eventually understands. Well, he doesn’t understand, but he gives up. Caroline is as unrelenting as her mother these days; and he’s never been able to win with Lizzie Forbes either._

_A month after that, she’s still at Uncle Bobby’s and the Singer house is getting crowded. Two young men show up, Dean and Sam Winchester. She isn’t sure what is going on and Uncle Bobby refuses to share with her. She knows that the first day the Winchesters show up, Uncle Bobby tells her to go up to her room and not come down until he goes to get her personally. She remembers sitting on the bed, listening to the sounds of fighting and shouting coming from downstairs. She’d taken Uncle Bobby’s dog, Rumsfeld, up with her to keep her company and she’s ashamed to say the dog handles the situation better than she does. Every sound and every scream makes her jump. She spends the night clutching a grumpy Rumsfeld to her chest, too afraid to sleep lest the nightmare going on downstairs makes its way up to her._

_Uncle Bobby comes to her well after midnight and she’s had no rest. He starts explaining things, talking about demonic possession and Devil’s Traps and Caroline’s freaking out. She’s only just come to term with witches and vampires, but now there were demons to deal with? Her very fragile hold on sanity is threatening to shatter when Uncle Bobby sits down on her bed, takes her face between his two rough hands, and swears to her that he will keep her safe. There’s such conviction in his voice, sheer determination in his eyes, that Caroline starts to feel comforted._

_But the next few days are trying beyond belief. There’s more drama with the Winchesters and their father (who she hasn’t met yet). Things are very complicated and one day Uncle Bobby leads her down to the basement, Rumsfeld on her heels. He says he has to go do something for the Winchesters, but the situation is looking very shady. He’s not leaving her here unprotected. He opens a door and leads her down into what looks like a bomb shelter. He says the shelter is demon-proof and she would be safe in here until he got back. She raises her eyebrows at the girlie calendar on the wall and Uncle Bobby actually blushes. And then he leaves._

_Caroline doesn’t know how she passes the day and half in the bomb shelter. She sleeps fitfully and Rumsfeld is good for cuddling but horrible company. Especially when he starts leaving little puppy surprises in the corner of the shelter. The stench makes her eyes water and she would hate the dog if he wasn’t her only protection against anything that could possibly get through Uncle Bobby’s demon-proofing._

_Once Uncle Bobby’s back, he knocks on the door of the shelter. She opens it eagerly, desperate for air that doesn’t reek of dog droppings. Also, she has to pee. But Uncle Bobby blocks the doorway and demands to know why she opened the door._

_“I could have been anyone, or anything,” he lectures her. “I could have been possessed. You need to make sure about these things.”_

_She thinks he’s overdoing it. He gives her the darkest look she’s ever seen on his face, which makes her stammer and apologize. Uncle Bobby sighs and says he has a lot to teach her. She follows him up the stairs, feeling chastised and worried._

_Her lessons begin the next day, and there is a lot to learn. Caroline’s faced with the reality that her world is lot more dangerous than she could ever have imagined and she’s sleeping less and less soundly as the days go by. Uncle Bobby is concerned about her state of mind, but he doesn’t let up on the lessons. She has to know these things, especially if she wants to survive. The mess in Mystic Falls is just the tip of the supernatural iceberg and Caroline doesn’t think she’ll ever leave Uncle Bobby’s house willingly again._

_It’s a week later when the Winchesters roll back into the Singer Salvage Yard. Uncle Bobby had brought back a smashed up Impala the day he let her out of the shelter; a car that he said belonged to the Winchesters. He had mentioned that the Winchesters might be along to pick it up, and she figures that means that they would come and go. But they don’t. Uncle Bobby explains the situation to her; tells her that their father had passed the night Bobby had gone, and she sympathizes. But she’s not that trusting these days and having two strangers around while she’s trying to adjust herself to this new worldview is too hard._

_She and Dean don’t get along. He’s moody and angry and barely talks to anyone. She doesn’t care if he talks to her; she’s not exactly communicating with anyone who’s not Uncle Bobby at this point. But he snaps at Uncle Bobby a lot; and at his brother even more. She observes this all quietly, noting how every rough word affects the youngest Winchester. However, Sam soldiers on even while his brother scowls and glares at anything that comes within a five foot radius. He even glares at Rumsfeld. That bugs her, because for all his stink and gross dog behaviours, Rumsfeld tolerates her slightly insane cuddling and clutching. Rumsfeld has even taken to sleeping on her bed and doesn’t even snip at her when she wakes from a nightmare, shaking and sweating, to clamour over to him for a hug. Rumsfeld is a prince of a dog and Dean’s mistreatment of him gets on her nerves._

_Eventually, things come to a head. There’s nothing explosive, but Dean makes a rough shooing motion at Rumsfeld while muttering something about Rumsfeld being ‘a stupid, worthless dog’ and she loses it. She stomps off the porch and comes to stand right in front of the Impala Dean is attempting to fix. The elder Winchester gives her a hard look and she pushes one finger into his chest._

_“Deal with your shit, and leave my dog alone.”_

_“Keep your dog and your bony ass fingers away from me, and everything’s fine.”_

_“You’re the guest buddy. Time to remove the stick from your ass and accept that you’re visiting and we live here, so we’ll go where we like.”_

_“Eat a few cheeseburgers, get enough meat on your bones to cast a shadow, and then come try threatening me again.”_

_Their exchange ends with her stomping down hard on his foot before marching Rumsfeld back into the house, ignoring the cursing and shouting coming from Dean. Uncle Bobby raises an eyebrow at her when she storms into the house and she responds with a flip of her hair that is almost reminiscent of her school days. She winks at him to alleviate whatever sting might be in her response and Uncle Bobby gives a chuckle before disappearing to check on Dean._

_She waits until she hears the front door close before wandering into the downstairs bathroom. She turns on the light and looks hard at her reflection. Dean’s barbs come back to her and she can’t help but admit he’s right. Since fleeing Mystic Falls, Caroline has dropped fifteen to twenty pounds, and that’s weight she can’t afford to lose. She used to be meticulous with her diet and her exercise. She refused to be chubby and wouldn’t be one of those anorexic girls that everyone laughed at. She kept herself at respectable size four, kept her hair styled and well-managed, and dedicated herself to daily regiments of skin care that kept her face blemish free._

_Her diet’s not so meticulous now. Uncle Bobby’s lucky to get her to eat three times a day, and even then she doesn’t eat much. Her stomach is too unsettled these days, and her consistent set of nightmares make sure that she empties her stomach into her toilet at least once a night. The weight loss looks bad on her. Her skinny jeans, once perfectly fitted to her body, are now loose and have to be held up with a belt. Her button-up blouse is baggy on her too-slender frame and Caroline winces when she sees her collarbone jutting out so sharply under her skin. Her hair’s dull and scraggly. She barely brushes it in the morning, just pulls it together into a quick ponytail. The colour is starting to fade and her hair’s a slightly darker shade of blonde than she prefers, but hair dye isn’t high on her list of priorities lately. Her skin’s stretched out across her face, making her features appear pinched and too sharp. It’s also dry, particularly around her nose, and her eyebrows are getting kind of bushy. There’s also bags under her eyes, dark circles that are almost black, and Caroline thinks there must be drug addicts out there looking better than she does right now._

_God, if the people back home could see her now . . ._

_Sam appears in the mirror, just outside the doorway. She starts, not sure how long he’s been there. He’s looking at her in open curiosity and Caroline feels the need to explain, to justify what she’s become._

_“I used to be pretty,” she manages to sputter._

_Sam frowns. “You’re still pretty,” he says, gives her a small smile, and moves on._

_That’s probably the first time Sam makes her swoon. She takes a second to indulge in it and then shakes it off. In the past, she would have pursued this with a vengeance because Sam is, truthfully, very hot. But she’s not that girl anymore, and she remembers all too clearly what happened the last time she chased a hot guy._

_Dean is surly for the next few hours, clanking and throwing things with a vengeance. Caroline ignores Uncle Bobby every time he shoots her an amused look and eventually says she’s taking Rumsfeld for a walk. It’s not a long walk, because she’s still a little too shaky to be that far away from Uncle Bobby, but it’s the first time since arriving she’s made the attempt to leave the property. Her uncle looks entirely too happy with the development, a devious grin on his face when he hands over the pooper-scooper. The scooper is almost enough to make her change her mind, but she’s still got her pride. She’s not so useless that she can’t clean up after a dog._

_She comes home to see that dinner has been picked up from a nearby diner. It is greasy burgers all around, and Dean throws her a burger with an extra order of fries without looking at her. His grumpy mood has carried on through the day and the only time he actually looks at her is when she leaves the table, her dinner less than half eaten. Dean says nothing but gives her a dark look before pointedly looking at her plate. She sneers at him and moves to throw her food in the garbage. A disappointed look from Uncle Bobby stops her. She tosses the remains of the burger and mutinously chews on the fries. She makes a point of tossing her empty plate back on the table, right next to Dean’s, and then stomps her way up to her room._

_It is a pattern that she unknowingly establishes with the elder Winchester. She gets up each day, smiles shyly at Sam once or twice, and then ambles into the library for her lessons. Uncle Bobby is in much higher spirits, and it’s obvious his joy is due to Dean’s sudden dedication to meal-times. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner, Dean sucks up his attitude and plops down at the kitchen table to eat with the rest of them. At the end of the every meal, he glares in Caroline’s direction because she has not eaten enough to satisfy him. It’s only because he has Uncle Bobby on his side that Caroline indulges him, making an effort to finish more and more of her food. It doesn’t really help, since she’s still throwing up at night._

_Ten days after she tramples his foot, Dean slams a box of Gravol down next to her dinner plate and then settles down to eat._

_She doesn’t know if it’s the medication or the unsolicited attention, but Caroline’s not throwing up so much after that day._

_Animosity turns into grudging affection and Sam’s so happy that Dean is ‘almost sociable’ again that he’s sitting in on Caroline’s lessons, helping her learn about the world he’s been a part of since his birth. Sam’s a help, and soon Uncle Bobby is leaving the lessons up to him because there are other ‘Hunters’ calling, asking for help. Uncle Bobby’s busy researching while Sam’s explaining ghosts and spirits and Caroline is struck with the realization that this has quickly become ‘normal’ to her._

_Dean contributes, in a very surly manner. He interrupts her lessons one day to call her and his brother outside. She’s annoyed with his tone, tells him she’ll come when she’s ready, and Dean just glares at Sam until the younger man convinces Caroline to go with them. He leads them to the very back of the salvage yard. She sees he’s lined up five cans on the top of the hood of car. He makes her stop ten feet away and hands her a gun. She’s so boggled by this that she just stares at him when he orders her to shoot for the cans. He has to repeat himself, anger and exasperation in his voice when she fails to comply. She snaps out of her shock just in time to engage in an argument with him. She doesn’t want to learn how to use a gun and Dean doesn’t care what she wants. Sam’s trying his hand at playing peacemaker and Dean tells him to shut up. She gets angry on Sam’s behalf and they probably would have been at it all day if Uncle Bobby hadn’t show up and yelled at them for fighting. Uncle Bobby orders Caroline to do as Dean says and then tells Dean to watch how he speaks to Caroline. Uncle Bobby stomps off, but not before loudly declaring the three of them to be ‘ijits’._

_So, she’s being forced to eat three proper meals, being taught about all evil things that go bump in the night, and engaging in target practice daily. She’s feeling a bit overwhelmed but Dean cares little for her feelings. He says that’s what she gets for enrolling for the crash course in the supernatural. She informs him that she didn’t sign up for anything and she’d give anything to not know what she now knows. Dean calls her ignorant, she stomps on his feet some more, and Sam laughs every single damn time._

_This continues on for one month and she and Dean are fighting less and less. Dean’s still pretty tight-lipped most of the time and his attitude does still raise Caroline’s ire, but they’ve found a happy medium in which Dean watches what he says some of the time and Caroline’s stopped trampling his feet to express her displeasure. Of course, this newfound understanding is severely tested when Caroline stops Dean from shooting a witch._

_Caroline is standing at the base of the porch steps, glaring up at her uncle and the Winchesters while they level guns her way. Well, they aren’t levelling the guns in her direction, but they are aiming them at Bonnie and Caroline’s having none of it. She’s not sure how or why Bonnie’s here. Having a physical reminder of Mystic Falls standing before her doesn’t do well for her frame of mind. But still, it’s **Bonnie** ; she would never let anything happen to Bonnie if she could stop it._

_“Stop it!” she barks at the three Hunters, shifting so that she stands in between them and Bonnie. For her part, Bonnie’s looking mighty annoyed. There’s this look in her eyes that kind of scares Caroline. She needs to end this soon, or it’s not going to end well._

_“Caroline, get your dumb ass out of the way!” Dean hollers at her, taking a step down the stairs towards her. Caroline glares as she backpedals, her hands clutching Bonnie’s wrists to keep the witch flush against Caroline’s back. Bonnie huffs indignantly but allows Caroline to take the lead here._

_“Caroline, she’s a witch!” this comes from Uncle Bobby. “You need to get away from her.”_

_“You would have to come in with a tornado blowing behind you,” Caroline mutters angrily to Bonnie._

_“It’s the only way to make sure my scent isn’t tracked here,” Bonnie whispers back to her. The witch sounds more than a little put out by the reception she was getting. “Seriously, you’ve been hiding out with a bunch of gun-wielding maniacs for the past three months?”_

_“Not now, Bonnie,” Caroline growls at her friend, eyes firmly locked on Uncle Bobby’s. “Uncle Bobby, she’s not one of those witches. She inherited her powers. Her family’s from Salem.”_

_“Honey, I’m sure she’s told you a lot of stories-“_

_“I’ve known her my entire life!” Caroline interrupts with a roll of her eyes. “Trust me, this kind of stuff has been going on since we were in diapers. She hasn’t sold her soul to anyone or anything. She’s a natural witch and she’s my best friend, so put down your guns right now!”_

_Dean doesn’t believe her, Sam’s hesitant, but Uncle Bobby finally relents under the weight of her scowl. He does make Bonnie drink about a gallon’s worth of holy water before he puts up his gun, but he’s not trustful enough to let the witch into his house. Caroline’s upset with his behaviour and the Winchesters’ unwillingness to put away their guns. Dean’s demanding that the witch say her piece and leave, and so Caroline grabs her friend by the arm and walks her down the driveway. She shouts that she’ll be back when they’re done being crazy and she hears Uncle Bobby arguing with Dean about whether she should be allowed to go off on her own with a ‘goddamned witch’ of all people._

_“Real friendly,” Bonnie grumbles. Caroline rolls her eyes and leads her friend back onto the road. They begin to walk slowly towards the main road, both pretending not to notice when Sam and Dean start following them._

_“It took you long enough,” Caroline says as she looks up at the clear blue sky. She’s suddenly nervous, not really sure if she’s happy or terrified to have her friend here._

_“I figured you didn’t want the whole town showing up on your doorstep,” Bonnie explains with a shrug. “I had to wait for things to cool down back home. It’s been . . . hectic since Founders’ Day.”_

_“I can imagine.”_

_Bonnie nods silently, her stiff posture indicating her own discomfort. “Why didn’t you come back?” the witch asks finally. “I thought, that after a little while, you’d-“_

_“Can’t,” Caroline cuts her off. “There’s too much-I used the crystal. I can’t go back to where he’s-“_

_Caroline falters and can’t continue. But Bonnie needs little more in way of explanation. She stops in the middle of the road and grabs Caroline’s hand in her own. Bonnie’s eyes are teary and full of remorse. “I should have gotten rid of him, as soon as I was able,” Bonnie says, sniffing now and then. “I didn’t because I didn’t want to cause more problems for Elena. It might have turned out for the best. We needed him in the days after . . . I know it’s hard for you to understand, but a lot of people are still breathing because of him. It seemed like the lesser of two evils then.”_

_The mention of Elena and Damon brings back painful memories. Caroline feels the anger starting to build. She remembers that horrible night, remembers hearing Carol Lockwood shout angrily into her phone. “Did John Gilbert leave my mother tied up that night?”_

_Bonnie’s eyes snap up, full of shock. The shock soon fades into uneasiness, but she nods her head in affirmation. “It was all some half-botched plan to kill all the vampires in town. Mayor Lockwood died that night too. Apparently some of the deputies thought he was a vampire.”_

_Caroline’s surprised to hear that bit of news and shakes her head slightly. “Was he?”_

_Bonnie shook her head. “Mrs. Lockwood’s got most of the sheriff’s department up on disciplinary charges. She’s taken over as interim mayor for the time being. She and John Gilbert are fighting it out over control of the Founders’ Council.”_

_“That man deserves to be shot,” Caroline spits out darkly. Her hand tightens on Bonnie’s and it takes a few seconds for Caroline to reign in her temper. Bonnie waits for her to collect her thoughts and Caroline knows she’s feeling slightly edgy because Dean and Sam are just ten feet away at this point. “Did my dad tell you where to find me?”_

_Bonnie laughs. “He didn’t need to,” she says with an easy shrug. “I started tracking you the second I knew you were missing. I am a witch, remember?”_

_Caroline arches an eyebrow at her and looks pointedly at their self-appointed chaperones. “Slipped my mind,” she says with a giggle. Humour leaves her quickly and she gives Bonnie a hard look. “Does Elena know what Damon did to me?”_

_Bonnie bites her lip and nods, eyes on the dirt road._

_“Did she know before or after she became all buddy-buddy with Damon?”_

_“She’s known since it happened, I think,” Bonnie mumbles. “Listen Caroline, I’m not here to make apologies for Elena. She’s not as good at decision-making as she thinks she is, but she didn’t do it to hurt you. Things have gotten complicated back in Mystic Falls. There’s this vampire, Katherine. She’s-“_

_“Damon’s ex,” Caroline supplies with a roll of her eyes. “He used to talk about her-a lot. What does this have to do with her? I thought Damon said she was dead or something.”_

_“If only,” Bonnie sighs. “She’s still alive-or undead, I guess. She’s the one who made Damon into a vampire, Stefan too. The original Founders’ Council tried to kill her in 1864, and I guess she’s back for revenge or something. She’s been messing around with the entire town ever since Founders’ Day. It’s made worse because of how much she looks like Elena.”_

_Caroline frowns. “Elena? She’s looks like Elena?”_

_“Exactly like Elena,” Bonnie shakes her head. “Looks like her, sounds like her, moves like her-we can’t tell the difference half the time. We think they’re related somehow, but that sort of thing is hard to trace. Katherine’s centuries old; and she’s not exactly cooperative. She was the one we saw with Matt, before . . .”_

_Caroline blinks and then remembers seeing Matt kissing Elena; or Katherine as it turns out. Funny, it seemed so devastating at the time, but she’s hardly thought of it since. Things have become infinitely more complicated than seeing her boyfriend kissing her best friend’s lookalike. Caroline thinks back on it, remembers Bonnie shouting ‘it’s not her’, and then thinks of Matt. “Is Matt-“_

_“He’s fine, he can barely remember,” Bonnie tugs on her hand and starts walking again. “She compelled him, like Damon used to do with you. He’s a mess, Caroline. He wants to know where you are, how you are-“_

_“No.” Caroline stops walking again and looks at her friend sternly. “No, Bonnie. No one else. Not Matt, not Elena-not anyone. I can’t handle-I don’t want to handle the drama. Don’t tell anyone; promise me.”_

_Bonnie’s eyes drop to the ground again. “Everyone’s worried about you,” she whispers to Caroline’s feet. “Elena was going out of her mind for a few weeks; and Matt’s still looking, even though your dad told us to stop. Caroline, you should come-“_

_“Promise me,” Caroline repeats, ignoring everything else. “Promise me, Bonnie Bennett.”_

_Bonnie sighs and looks up to meet Caroline’s eyes. “Okay,” she says softly. “If that’s what you want.”_

_“Don’t even tell them that you saw me,” Caroline continues. “They’ll never let up if you do. Just don’t say anything, at all.”_

_Bonnie nods, biting her lip as she turns to look at Sam and Dean in the distance. “I don’t like leaving you here,” she murmurs, a few tears escaping her this time. “Caroline, these guys are weird and they have guns. I want you to come home so I can protect you.”_

_“We can protect her just fine!” Dean shouts from his spot behind them. Caroline whips her head around and glares certain death at him. Sam coughs, covering his laughter badly, and then tugs his brother another five feet or so back._

_“What an ass,” Bonnie grumbles, wiping at her eyes angrily._

_“He’s actually pretty well-behaved today,” Caroline remarks with a brittle laugh. “And despite his attitude, he’s not wrong. They can protect me, just fine. Uncle Bobby says he won’t let anything else happen to me, and I believe him. I know it’s hard to understand, but I feel like I can breathe here. The idea of going back to Mystic Falls, it makes my throat close up. I just panic, and I can’t think. I can’t go back.”_

_“It’s not right,” Bonnie says, voice strained. “It’s not right that you have to hide out here while he’s back there, walking around like . . . I’d kill him, for everything he’s done to you and everyone else that I love. I would kill him in a heartbeat and not think twice about it. But I can’t, because we need him. I wish we didn’t. I wish I was enough; I wish we didn’t need either of them. But I’ve got the entire town to think of, and Katherine’s not going away on her own.”_

_“I understand, Bonnie.”_

_“You don’t,” she says with a hard shake of her head. “It’s like I’m choosing him over you, and it kills me. You’re my best friend Caroline; I love you.”_

_And she’s crying too, because it’s all too true to not cry. Caroline throws her arms around Bonnie’s neck and pulls her friend close. “I love you too, Bonnie,” she whispers into Bonnie’s shoulder. “I’m always going to love you. You’re my best friend, for now and forever. Even if I’m not there, I’m still here for you.”_

_Three months and fourteen days past Founders’ Day and Caroline’s waving goodbye to the best friend she’ll love forever, clutching to her chest the packets of vervain seeds Bonnie leaves as a parting gift._

~*~

“You look . . . grown.”

She laughs, because Stefan’s manners haven’t changed and he’s still not one to state ugly truths. But he’s poor at covering potential mishaps and there’s no real way for him to give her a nice compliment. She looks tired, and worn out. It’s okay, because she feels tired and worn out. She forgives him this one slip because she knows how much she has changed. She wonders if it’s just the time or if all vampires are genuinely shocked to discover how times affects humans. It must be hard to compare his own timelessness to her . . . growth.

He’s fidgeting and not meeting her eyes properly. She feels her patience wearing thin. She’d never had a problem with Stefan back in Mystic Falls, but he’s Damon’s brother and a vampire, so she wants him out of her house. She invited him in because of the shock his news brought her. Elena being dead is surreal. Caroline had accepted long ago that one day Elena would be dead in the vampire-sense of the word, but to be dead-dead? It’s hard to believe because Elena had both Salvatore brothers on her side; that alone should have ensured her safety.

“So what happened?”

Stefan looks surprised at her blunt tone. He keeps doing that, acting shocked or surprised whenever she does the slightest thing. It’s like he came here expecting to find seventeen-year-old Caroline Forbes; a silly, boy-crazy cheerleader whose shallowness was a bit of a town joke. She looks back at him steadily, waiting for the shock to wear off and for him to just get to the point already. She’s had too many shocks already today; she isn’t in the mood to coddle Stefan.

“How much do you-“ Stefan stops and shakes his head. His eyes flit across the room nervously. “Do you know who Katherine is?”

“She made you, and him,” Caroline jerks her chin in the direction of the front door and then bites her lip thoughtfully. “And she was apparently Elena’s exact double. Or I guess Elena was hers, because Katherine came first.”

“Katherine came centuries ago,” Stefan says with a shake of his head. “Katherine was . . . You don’t care how she was.”

Caroline shrugs one shoulder, but it’s true. Stefan pushes on. “She came back to Mystic Falls, right after you disappeared. She caused . . . problems for Elena. But she had an endgame. We just couldn’t figure it out. She stuck around for about a year and a half, and then she was gone-vanished, and we couldn’t find her-just like last time.”

She remembers nights and nights of Damon’s whining. “My sympathies.”

He knows what she means, laughs a little and then stops, like he`s ashamed to be caught doing something so light-hearted. Caroline frowns and stares hard at Stefan. She was wrong with her initial assessment; Stefan is not the same as he was five years ago. He looks skinnier, his hair is messy, and he`s constantly rubbing his hands together. Her heart dips and then recovers. Her hand goes out before she can stop it and covers his, stopping the rubbing motion. He stares at her hand, as if unsure what to do with the show of comfort. Caroline figures he is due his confusion; she`s been giving off mixed signals all day.

“Elena,” she says softly, to get him back on track.

Stefan looks at her out of the corner of his eye, scrutinizing her face bluntly. It’s a long minute of silence, but then he flexes his hand and suddenly their fingers are entwined and he’s squeezing her hand. “She missed you every day,” he tells her, and then continues before she can respond. “Katherine came back about a year ago. From the looks of the guy helping Damon, I guess you’re pretty aware of how bad things were last year?”

She tilts her head slightly. “You’ve met angels before?”

“Had a few of them in Mystic Falls just after Katherine arrived,” Stefan shrugs easily, but there’s a stiffness to his shoulders that she doesn’t miss. “They told us about her plan and then told us to stop her. Didn’t ask, told.”

Caroline nods. “That’s pretty standard for them. What was Katherine doing?”

“Something insane,” Stefan mutters down to her hand, his thumb running over her knuckles in a way that was making her uncomfortable. “Vampires have been around for a long time, but our origins are shrouded in mystery. No one really knows much about how vampires came into being, but there are whispers among the older ones, about the Original Ones. The first humans ever turned into vampires.”

“Katherine’s not that old,” Caroline interrupts.

“Not Katherine, but Klaus,” Stefan lifts his head and looks her straight in the eye. “Katherine’s maker.”

She blinks, surprised by this information. Stefan watches her closely and she doesn’t know what he expects from her. She shakes her head at him and shrugs again. Okay, but so what?

“The Original Ones haven’t been seen or heard from in over four hundred years,” Stefan says. “Some vampires say that they were too old, finally weary with the world, and they went away on their own. Others insist that they were forced to go underground, are being kept asleep by another power-some have accused witches for being responsible for their disappearance. I’m not sure what the truth is, but Katherine certainly believed in the latter. She was devastated when Klaus vanished, dedicated her immortal life to getting him back. Tried her hand at collecting powerful witches that might have the power to release him from whatever prison he was in-“

“Emily Bennett,” Caroline sighs and drops her head into her one free hand. “And now Bonnie Bennett.”

Stefan nods and continues on with his story. “With Lucifer on the loose last year, there was a lot of talk about the Original Ones emerging once again. The angels told us that Katherine was in Mystic Falls on a mission to get Klaus back. She’d been searching for the right place and the right time for centuries. I always wondered at her obsession with Mystic Falls, why she kept coming back to that place over and over again. Turns out-“

“Ley lines,” Caroline finishes for him. Stefan’s hold on her hand tightens for a fraction of a second, but he’s still a vampire so it hurts. She winces and he immediately cups her hand in both of his, looking at her apologetically. She tries to give him a reassuring smile, sure that it comes out as a grimace, and pulls her hand slowly back to her lap. She raises her other hand and waves to the books lining the wall opposite them. “How do you think Bonnie got that information in the first place?”

“You knew?”

She shakes her head. “Not all of it. I’ve tried to stay out of all things Mystic Falls-related. And we were a bit busy back then. She called and gave me the basics of what she was looking for. I passed the question onto Uncle Bobby, and we looked into it when we got the time. But it was all in a rush-I emailed her back the information and didn’t hear a peep about it afterwards.”

Stefan leans back against the couch and stares at the bookshelves. “I can’t believe she had that much contact with you,” he mutters softly. “She never let on-even when we were so panicked and Elena and Matt both begged-“

“That was my decision,” Caroline interrupts again. She gives Stefan a hard look. “I made the choice, Bonnie respected it. She didn’t agree with it, but she respected it because it was my decision to make.”

Stefan shifts and a look of discomfort washes over his face. “Caroline, I-“

“Tell me about Katherine,” she interjects before he can get started. She expects him to look pained and then move on, but he gives a bitter laugh and runs his hands over his face tiredly.

“We destroyed you, didn’t we?” he mumbles through his fingers. She says nothing, because nothing needs to be said. He sneaks another look in her direction and she just looks back steadily. He can’t hold her gaze for long and his eyes drop to the floor. “We did as we were asked. Katherine wasn’t easily defeated. She nearly wiped out all of the Founding Families, most of the vampire allies I could scramble up, some of Bonnie’s witch friends before Elena-“

Her heart’s thumping wildly in her chest. She wants to know, but at the same time she’s terrified to hear the truth. Stefan looks near tears and her hand is out and grasping his again. “She was newly turned. We thought it would be best considering Katherine’s natural jealousy of Elena, and that it would be better-“

“Don’t make justifications for me, Stefan,” Caroline tells him. “It was always going to end that way. We all knew.”

Stefan opens his mouth, but seems to reconsider what he wants to say. Their fingers are entwined again and he’s suddenly fascinated with the scar on her right hand. He continues to speak, running one finger lightly over the faded white line. “She sacrificed herself. She kept saying that it was her town and Katherine wasn’t allowed to destroy it. In the middle of the battle, she threw herself at Katherine. Katherine saw her coming, laughed, and plunged a stake into her chest. Elena saw it coming, but didn’t stop. In her last moments, she reached out and tore off Katherine’s necklace. The one with the gem that lets her walk in the sunlight. Dawn was just breaking and Katherine didn’t get it for a second. I didn’t see what happened afterwards, just knew that I ran for Elena, Damon pushed Katherine back, and Bonnie lost her mind.”

A shudder rips through her body before she can stop it. “What do you mean Bonnie ‘lost her mind’?”

Stefan laughs that same bitter laugh again. “I mean, she lost it. She screamed, I still remember her scream-it’s was so horrible. I was so caught up in Elena that I didn’t realize at first that it wasn’t coming from my own mouth. Everything was just static for a few seconds. But Bonnie-she didn’t shut down, didn’t pause once for grief. It was just rage, full on rage, and then it was like the world was ending. Wind, lightning, rain-the earth was shaking and there was fire everywhere. Katherine got caught up in it-she couldn’t make the quick escape to shade and shelter. Bonnie’s scream faded and then Katherine was screaming-long, wailing screams as Bonnie and the sun ripped and burnt all the parts of her body.”

He falls silent and leans forward, free arm resting on his knees as he turns to face her. “It wasn’t natural, but we don’t know what it was. Bonnie wore herself out killing Katherine; she was out cold for almost a week. When she came to, she didn’t want to answer any questions. Said that it was over and that we should try and make sure that no one could follow in Katherine’s footsteps.”

“And what were those footsteps exactly?” Caroline asks, pushing down the ominous feeling that Bonnie’s actions raised. “How was Katherine going to get Klaus back?”

Stefan looks uncomfortable, his frown deepening as his eyes drift to the front hall. “Katherine was determined to get Klaus out, desperate. It’s an uncomfortable parallel for everyone involved, but we had to deal with it. Katherine wanted Klaus out, and that meant reawakening all the Original Ones; twelve in total and all insanely powerful. But Katherine wasn’t strong enough to wake them on her own. She needed someone older, more powerful. We didn’t know exactly who it was; we only had the name ‘Upir Lichy’. We couldn’t find information on the creature, who or what it was. The angels came just one month after Katherine’s reappearance and told us to stop the awakening of Upir Lichy, also known as Lilitu.”

Something in the way he pronounced the word sets off alarm bells in Caroline’s head. “Lilitu?” she repeats slowly, mind racing to find the connection to something she had read somewhere.

Stefan nods. “Yeah, Lilitu, the Father of all Vampires. The angel outside said you knew his mother.”

Caroline’s throat goes dry. “His mother?”

“Lilith.”

~*~

_It’s been a year and a half since Founders’ Day and Caroline is in danger of falling into that same old trap._

_“So, this Lilith person is bad?”_

_Sam looks up from his spot on the couch and gives her a lopsided grin. “Demons tend to be bad,” he says with a short laugh. Caroline kicks off from the ground with her feet, spinning her new swivel desk chair in circles. It makes her dizzy after a short while, so she stops and turns slowly to look over at him. The laptop Uncle Bobby had reluctantly bought for her (along with the internet hookup to go with it) is sitting idly on the desk behind her. She’s sort of angry with Google; it isn’t offering any solutions to the current problem. So much for the information age._

_“I mean, she’s worse than usual,” Caroline narrows her eyes at her research partner. “And a little concern from you would probably be reasonable right now.”_

_Sam scratches at his neck and looks towards the front hall. “Shouldn’t they be back by now?”_

_Caroline rolls her eyes at this lame diversionary tactic. “Dean’s probably looking down some waitress’s blouse while Uncle Bobby is waiting for him in the truck. They’ll be a while. And stop avoiding the issue.”_

_Sam favours her with another dazzling grin. “What issue?”_

_“You know, you’re not that cute,” Caroline huffs as she resumes her spinning. “Fine, be that way. You obviously aren’t ready to discuss your feelings about how Lilith is a scary-ass demon after your hide. It’s okay; I accept your cowardice on the matter.”_

_“Wow, ‘cowardice’,” Sam leans back and folds his arms across his chest. “Aiming a little low there, aren’t you? What happened to our sweet, Sweet Caroline?”_

_“Ha-ha, I’ve never encountered that reference before,” Caroline pushes herself up out of her chair and walks over to join Sam on the couch. She makes a point of kicking at his leg and forcing him to slide over before taking a seat. Sam watches her with obvious amusement, taking great pains to seem unaffected by her attitude. He pulls the book he had been reading before closer to him and promptly ignores Caroline. She’s unimpressed with this course of action and slides herself even closer to him than before._

_“I’m not Santa Claus,” Sam murmurs absently and Caroline responds by getting up and flopping down on his lap-hard. Sam grunts and drops the book to the floor._

_Caroline arches a brow at him. “Be careful,” she says mildly. “Uncle Bobby is particular about his books.”_

_“More so about his niece,” Sam grumbles, poking her lightly in her arm. “Want to get off before he comes through that door, assumes the worst, and blows my head off?”_

_Caroline frowns. “Being in a compromising position with me is the ‘worst’? I think my feelings are hurt.”_

_“You’re fishing for compliments,” Sam retorts, but he’s smiling again so there’s little sting to his remark. “But I’m still not talking about Lilith.”_

_She pouts and rests her head on his shoulder. “Sam, I seriously don’t want to see you dead, ever again. Once was bad enough.”_

_His hand finds its way to her arm and she’s soon encompassed in a half hug while Sam rests his cheek against the top of her head. “I’m sorry you had to see that. Not as sorry as I am that Dean got away from you, made that dumbass deal of his, and brought me back-but still, I’m sorry.”_

_Caroline tilts her head upwards and Sam looks down to meet her eyes. “I’m not crazy about this deal either, but that doesn’t mean I’m okay with what’s going on now. You’re ignoring this Lilith thing so you can obsess over Dean.”_

_Sam’s eyes harden. “My brother is not going to hell,” he says stonily._

_“No one wants that,” Caroline snorts and pushes away from him. She also elbows him in the side for even thinking her dedication to helping Dean is lacking in any way. “But you’ve got to think about this rationally. You just said demons tend to be bad; so why the hell are you so okay with this Ruby chick?”_

_“She can save Dean-“_

_“She’s lying,” Caroline interrupts with a shake of her head. “You’re not this dense, Sam.”_

_“No, but I’m that desperate,” Sam sighs and pulls her back against his side. “We’re running out of time.”_

_“I still don’t trust her,” Caroline mutters. “And you’re still not talking about Lilith.”_

_“My, we’re quick today,” Sam jokes, wincing when she delivers another elbow to his ribs. “I’m kidding! Stop hurting me-you won’t leave anything for Lilith to torture.”_

_“That’s not funny, Sam Winchester!” Caroline slides off his lap and gets up on her knees so she can punch Sam in the shoulder. “I’m genuinely concerned for your scrawny ass-“ she punctuates this with another hard punch to the shoulder and Sam’s scrambling to cover, but she’s in a groove now, so the assault continues. “I’m worried, I’m agitated-all because of you, and you’re laughing at me!”_

_“Caroline! Stop!” He’s laughing as he says this and she’s annoyed that he’s not taking her anger more seriously, so she punches harder. Sam tries to grab her hands and she’s trying to avoid his clutches, and somehow in the middle of the scuffle, his back is on the couch and she’s sprawled out on top of him, and it seems only natural that they kiss._

_It’s near sixteen months of building sexual tension that just explodes and wow, can that boy kiss! Sam’s got his hands buried in her hair and she’s making funny little mewling noises in the back of her throat-it’s all insanely hot. She can’t get close enough to him and she’s pulling at his shirt trying to pull him closer. One of his hands drop from her hair and . . . yup, Sam’s hand is on her butt. And she likes it. She likes it a lot._

_She pulls back when oxygen becomes an issue, and a gasp escapes her because that’s the exact second Sam decides to give her bottom a quick squeeze. She’s hovering over him, all her nerve-ends on fire, and seriously she can’t touch him enough. Sam’s looking up at her with a confused and almost dazed look on his face._

_“Bobby’s going to shoot me,” he says with a thick voice. But he follows this with another, longer, squeeze of her bottom._

_“He’s definitely going to shoot you,” she laughs, and then dips back down to kiss him._

_It’s a year and a half past Founders’ Day, and Caroline Forbes is foolishly in love, once again._

~*~

“Caroline?”

Stefan is closer than before and his hand is on her shoulder. She blinks and looks at him, and then down at his hand. Stefan starts and then pulls his hand back slowly. She feels bad because he’s got this wounded look on his face, but he was too close to her neck for her comfort. She hasn’t forgotten who, or what, he is, and he never should have gotten that close.

Dean would pitch a fit. Uncle Bobby would sigh and call her an ‘ijit’. She feels like an ‘ijit’.

“Lilith is dead,” she says in a shaky voice. “Trust me on that.”

“I’m not worried about Lilith,” Stefan gives her a worried look. “I know she’s dead. It’s Lilitu that I’m worried . . . are you okay?”

Caroline closes her eyes briefly and shakes her head. “Sorry, but that name raises some seriously bad memories. Not the worse of the bunch, but still . . . Right, Lilith’s son is the king of all vampires.”

“Father,” Stefan corrects her, a small smile on his face.

Caroline nods. “And Katherine was trying to raise him from Hell, but you stopped her.”

“We did,” Stefan affirms.

“So why is this still an issue?”

Stefan sighs and goes back to rubbing his hands. “Bonnie managed to kill Katherine, and that put an end to any attempts for the time being. But she was weakened by what she did that day. Her magic has been unreliable at best and non-existent at the worst. Her health suffered too; we had to admit her to the hospital for about two weeks. Doctors called it physical exhaustion; Damon said she nearly burned herself up from the inside out. She never bothered to contradict him, so I figured he was spot on.”

“But she never told you what she did to kill Katherine?” Caroline questions, ignoring the impulse to cringe when Stefan mentions his brother. “Why was she being so mysterious? And how did she disappear? Stefan-explain.”

“Isobel has taken over for Katherine,” Stefan replies. “She’s . . . obsessed with Lilitu. And she’s pissed that Bonnie killed Katherine, as well as being pissed that Katherine killed Elena-I don’t know. Alaric thinks she’s lost her grip on reality. She’s pretty organized for a crazy person, I think.”

“How did she get Bonnie?”

Stefan looks guilty. Caroline feels suspicious. “We might have let our guard down, a bit,” he finally admits. “Six months, and no signs of anything. A week ago, Bonnie wanted to go visit her aunt, to get help with stabilizing her magic. Matt went with her. They never arrived. Matt somehow got away-we think Bonnie might have done some magic to buy him enough time. By the time we got there, he was still alive, but barely.”

Caroline’s heart constricts tightly in her chest. “Is he okay?”

“Better, now. It was scary, for a minute or two, but he’s okay now. Doesn’t rest like the doctors tell him too; Tyler and Damon have to threaten him to mind his health. He won’t take vampire blood to get better; says he doesn’t want to rely on it, or accidentally end up a vampire.”

“And Damon didn’t force him?”

“Damon has learned to temper his actions, a bit,” Stefan says while Caroline snorts in disbelief. “I said a bit. He’s still a gigantic asshat, on occasion.”

Caroline rolls her eyes and purses her lips. When she looks back at Stefan, he’s staring at her. “He’s still my brother.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You don’t have to, and you don’t need to. I know, Caroline, I know. But he’s still my brother. And now he’s all I have. Do you understand?”

She does, but she doesn’t want to give him that. Her time with the Winchesters has shown her the ups and downs of sibling bonds. It has, over the course of five years, made her both happy and sad that she is an only child.

“So Elena’s dead, Katherine’s dead, Bonnie’s missing, and Isobel is crazy,” Caroline bites her upper lip in contemplation. “I still don’t see where this is going. Bonnie’s magic is all over the map, so there’s no guarantee that she can get Lilitu for Isobel. Why not find a group of witches willing to help-there’s no shortage of black magic witches out there. She could have done this easily without a witch with iffy powers.”

“Bonnie was onto something,” Stefan reveals, a grimace on his face. “We’re not too sure what it was, because she played everything so close to the vest. It only got worse after Elena died; she doesn’t share with anyone. If we’re lucky, Matt or Jeremy can coax her into a discussion, but she never gives too much away. It’s like she’s trying to distance herself from everyone who loves her-“

“Why not?” Caroline interrupts bluntly. “Her loved ones are only leaving her anyway. Why bother setting yourself up for more heartbreak?”

Stefan sighs. “You know you’re one of those that left her, right?”

Caroline looks to the bookshelves. “We’ve all had our part to play in it, but I’m too selfish to come back for her state of mind, and she’s too self-sacrificing to just come here and hide out with me for the rest of our lives. I’ve had this talk with her before.”

The room is quiet for a few tense moments. “She found something she thought would cut Isobel off at the pass. She asked us to start collecting remaining members of the Founding Families-not easy considering the number Katherine did on them. She swore it was the first step in stopping Isobel. Tyler is heading up the search for her back home; Damon and I came to collect the only outstanding Founder representatives.”

“The last Forbes,” Caroline bits on her thumbnail and then jerks her head to the side. “Which one is she?”

“Salvatore,” Stefan replies. “One of our great-nieces. And the only one who knows the family secret. Meredith Salvatore-Zach’s younger cousin. She was at Brown, studying literature. We picked her up and then swung out your way.”

“Brothers on a road trip,” she mutters and then laughs, feeling tears threatening at the corners of her eyes. “I swear, I’m stuck in some sort of cyclical time warp.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

“I know.”

He waits for an explanation, but there is none coming. Stefan shakes his head and picks up where he left off. “You need to come with us. Bonnie was adamant about getting all the Founding Families together, no matter what. She said she was going to go get you herself, but she never had the chance. Damon convinced your father to give up your location.”

“Convinced?” she repeats, her voice dropping low with anger.

“Carol Lockwood helped with that,” Stefan rushes to explain. “She pulled rank, talked about what was happening in Mystic Falls, and her fears that Isobel would go after you-and add Damon to the mix-“

“My dad’s been ingesting vervain for years,” Caroline snaps at him. “I send it to him every month.”

“His supplies have been tampered with,” Stefan shrugs. “I replaced it before we left. He didn’t call to warn you because Damon compelled him to forget. He’s safe.”

“Oh, is he?” Caroline gets to her feet and stalks her way to the other side of the library. Her blood is boiling and it takes a lot of willpower for her not to reach for the handgun hidden amongst the exorcism books. She inhales deep, mentally counts down from ten, and then turns back to face Stefan. He is still on the couch, silently awaiting her outburst. She wants to oblige, the chastised look on his face not enough of an apology for their meddling with her father.

But she’s old enough to know tantrums solve little.

“Get out,” she whispers, holding up her hand to stop whatever protest he’s trying to come up with. “This is not a total brush-off. I need time to prepare.”

“You’re coming?” Stefan sounds hopeful.

She gives him a bewildered look. “Bonnie’s missing, right? Of course I’m coming. But I’m not coming with you. I’ll make my own arrangements.”

“Wha-“

Whatever Stefan wants to ask, he’s cut off by the sudden thumping and cursing coming from the kitchen. Caroline feels her lips twitch in a shadow of a smile as Dean’s voice bounces off the walls of her house. “Fuck, Sammy! I told you to wait!”

Sam sounds unaffected by his brother’s irritation. “And I said we’re going now. You never listen.”

“I listen fine! You suck at listening,” Dean appears in the doorway to the library and Stefan’s managed to get himself between Caroline and the newcomers, and she realizes that Stefan doesn’t know what’s happening.

“It’s okay,” she assures him, coming to stand beside him and looking towards the doorway. Dean’s face is clouded with anger and his clothes are very rumpled. He’s stopped his shouting and is looking at the scene before him with open suspicion. One hand disappears underneath the back of his jacket and Caroline has to bite her lip to keep from telling him that regular bullets are no good in this case.

“What’s going on here?” Dean asks, his eyes flicking to the side to include Sam in his question.

“I said it was important,” is Sam’s contribution. “I’ll go get the car.”

And then he’s gone. “I hate when he does that,” Dean mutters and Caroline nods her agreement. Stefan’s looking a bit dazed, glancing uncertainly between both Caroline and the elder Winchester. Dean’s back to glaring, hand still obviously on his weapon, and Stefan’s sliding out of confusion to irritation.

“Caroline?”

She thinks it would be bad manners to laugh at all the testosterone in the air, but she does it anyway. “This is Dean,” she says, edging out so that she stood between the two men. “And Dean, this is Stefan.”

Dean’s eyes widened and the anger doesn’t dissipate a bit. “Stefan? What’s his last name?”

“He’s just leaving,” Caroline avoids the question and puts a hand on Stefan’s shoulder and starts pushing him towards the door. “And we’re letting him leave.”

Dean pulls a face. “Do we have to?”

Stefan turns and gives her a pained look. “Please tell me you aren’t living with this guy.”

“At least I’ve got a pulse,” Dean snaps before she can speak. Caroline raises a finger to her lips and gives Dean a sharp look to keep back any other insults. He rolls his eyes and pulls his hand off his gun. “Come on, Caroline. He’s a vampire.”

“And you’re Gordon Walker suddenly?” Caroline makes a shooing motion with her hands. “He’s going, we’re letting him, and I’ve got to talk to you about something.”

Dean grunts and stomps off to stand by the staircase. “I can’t believe you invited a vampire inside,” is his parting shot.

“Charming,” Stefan murmurs in her ear. She gives him a warning look and pushes him towards the door. He goes, slowly, giving Dean a dark look that the Hunter is no doubt returning. Caroline prods him onto the porch, looking off into the yard where Castiel stands next to Meredith Salvatore and her newly healed great-uncle. Damon’s giving her a strange look and she feels Dean at her back before she can even start to shake. She wishes that she brought the shotgun with her, because he’s not that far away and Damon’s not known for taking things in stride.

“Sam is coming with the car,” Castiel announces randomly.

“We got that, Cas,” Dean says and she knows he’s smiling patronizingly at the angel. For all the anger and arguments that followed Castiel’s return to Heaven, Dean still remembers all the times the angel came through. Caroline remembers as well, but her memories are tainted with bitterness. She thinks it’s because Castiel was able to return home to the Father he was missing, and Caroline’s lost Uncle Bobby too soon after she finally found him.

“We’re heading out,” Stefan says as he goes to join his family. “Caroline’s following.”

“You’re following?” Dean’s disapproval is clear, and loud.

“She’s following?” Meredith repeats nervously. “How can you be sure . . .”

“She’s coming for Bonnie,” Stefan replies. “Let’s get going.”

“I bet,” Damon finally speaks, and he’s not as angry as she thought he would be. “You know, that was very clever with the shotgun. With all the cowering and hiding you’ve been doing for the past five years, it’s nice to see that you’re still a Forbes, somewhere in there.”

She clamps down on Dean’s hand before he can get to his gun. Dean’s quick on the uptake and he already knows who Stefan is, the step to deducing Damon’s identity is miniscule at best. “Relax,” she whispers, feeling less than relaxed herself. “I’ve already shot him today. It’s just a waste of bullets if Cas keeps healing him.”

“You fucking healed him?” Dean shouts at Castiel. “That fucker? Cas!”

Castiel looks blank, as he usually does. “He’s needed, for the time being. It gave me no pleasure to aid him. I doubt I will be persuaded to do so again.”

“But when you’re ordered?” Dean’s disgusted and trying to wrench his hands out of Caroline’s grasp. She just starts forcing him backwards, towards the front door.

“We’ll be leaving tomorrow,” she says to Stefan.

“You fucking better,” is Damon’s reply.

He’s pricked her last nerve. Caroline turns back to face the Salvatores, eyes sliding over to Meredith. “So, you’re Zach’s cousin?”

She nods, blonde hair flying about her hair from the force of her motions. “I grew up in New York, but my parents told me . . .” She gestures lamely to Stefan and Damon, and falls silent.

Caroline tilts her head slightly to the side. “Do you know he’s dead?”

Meredith’s head’s nodding again. “Damon told me.”

Her eyebrows fly up on her forehead. “Oh, did he?” Meredith nods once more. “Did he happen to mention that he’s the one who killed Zach?”

There’s a shocked silence after her question. Stefan looks disappointed in her and Meredith snaps her head towards Damon, mouth wide open. Castiel sighs and puts a warning hand on Damon’s shoulder, giving the vampire a slight shake of the head. Caroline’s managed to push Dean back inside the house, eyes still on the vampires in her yard.

She arches her eyebrow at Damon, a slight smirk on her face. “Forbes enough for you?”

And then she slams the door shut.

~0~


	4. Part Four

“You can’t be serious, Bonnie! Look at what Katherine’s doing! She needs to be here so we can protect her.”

Bonnie scoffs and turns angrily on her best friend. “She’s perfectly safe and I am very serious, Elena. We’ve had this conversation before, and my answer is not going to change. Stop pushing me.”

Elena shakes her head, hands pressing against her temples as she tries to hold back her frustration. “Bonnie, she ran away from everything! Where is she now? Who’s with her? With what she knows, she shouldn’t be out there with just anyone! She needs to be back here, with people who love her. This is her home!”

“She has a new home, and she’s fine there.”

“But not happy,” Elena pounces. “She’s not happy there.”

“Would you be?” Bonnie shakes her head. “Elena, her mother is gone and a lot of her nightmares became reality. Her being less than ecstatic is kind of okay, considering.”

“Maybe she wouldn’t be so stubborn about this if you hadn’t given her that stupid rock,” Elena growls.

Bonnie stops and stares at her friend. “You are not God, Elena,” she spits out. “You don’t get to decide who remembers what, all right? It’s her mind; she has a right to know. And if you keep going on like this, we’re not going to have much a friendship left. I’ll talk to you later-much later.”

“Fine!” Elena turns and stomps further into the house, not bothering to see Bonnie out. She storms into the kitchen and Caroline arches an eyebrow at the pout on her face.

“That went well,” she comments drily from her spot atop the island counter.

Elena smirks at her. “That’s pretty tame. Sometimes we can really get into. The heat’s sort died off now; we’ve been having the same fight for five years. She never lets me win.”

“Any particular reason why you decided to share that with me? I’m assuming there’s also a reason for this,” Caroline gestures to herself, indicating the formal green gown and accessories. “I wasn’t sure if I was in the right dream for a moment. This doesn’t look much like a Miss Mystic Falls redo.”

Elena shrugs one shoulder and comes to stand beside Caroline’s legs. “You were really happy that day,” she explains, extending one hand to tuck an errant curl behind Caroline’s ear. “Your hair is awesome.”

“You should see it now,” Caroline snorts. “You’d die of shock.”

Elena giggles and grabs Caroline’s hand, squeezing it tightly. “Hair is important,” she says seriously before another smile breaks out across her features.

“It sure is,” Caroline frowns at her friend. “Elena, you’re dead.”

“Yeah,” Elena winces as she turns and plants her palms on the counter before easing herself up to take a seat next to Caroline. “I was kind of hoping to avoid telling you that.”

“You died six months ago,” Caroline looks at her friend sadly. “The dreams started at the same time. It’s not a coincidence, is it?”

“Afraid not,” Elena confesses. “I told you it was important.”

Caroline rolls her eyes. “Please tell me that this is you, not some angel jumping into my brain and messing with me.”

“They can do that?”

Caroline sighs and thinks of Gabriel. “They can do a lot.”

Elena wrinkles her nose and bumps her arm playfully. “How can I convince you? If I’m an angel, then I’m already in your head and can tell you just about anything that’s in your memories. This could get dicey.”

“So what? I’m supposed to take it on faith?” Caroline snaps. “I’ve had enough of the faith lectures.”

“Then I won’t give you one,” Elena says easily, not the least perturbed by the change in Caroline’s tone. “Can’t we just say that two friends were given another chance?”

“Chance to what?”

“To make amends,” Elena gives her a small smile. “I give good when Bonnie and I are arguing, but it’s only because I know she’s right. I wasn’t a good friend and I made calls that I thought were for the best, but maybe they weren’t. I just didn’t want you to get hurt.”

Caroline purses her lips and looks away from Elena. “I suppose I can understand that,” she says softly. “I don’t like it, but I can understand it. After I remembered, I wished so badly that I could forget it again. But it’s too late for wishes and could-haves.”

“You’re only being this reasonable because you know I’m dead,” Elena needles her.

“It’s not possible that I’ve just matured?” Caroline asks with a laugh.

Elena bites her lip to keep back a smile-but fails. “There’s no way for me to answer that without getting in trouble, so I’m going to pretend that I didn’t hear it.”

“Good call.”

They fall into a companionable silence for a few minutes, Caroline taking the opportunity to look around her. “So, you just moved in with them?”

“With Stefan,” Elena clarifies. “I guess you could call this the headquarters. Even Bonnie spends most of her time here, though she hates it. She sets Damon’s hair on fire at least once a month.”

Caroline laughs loudly at that, the image of Damon with his hair on fire bringing tears to her eyes. Elena’s giggling beside her and it takes the two a few minutes to get back under control. Caroline’s still brushing tears off her cheeks and tittering slightly when Elena slides off the counter. “All that laughing makes a girl thirsty.”

“This is a dream,” Caroline snorts. “How can you get thirsty?” 

“Technically, this is a memory that I’m sharing with you,” Elena says with a wave of her hand. “And after that fight with Bonnie, I was thirsty. So I’m thirsty now. Follow my logic for a second, will ya?”

Caroline snorts, but says nothing as Elena pulls the refrigerator door open. She supposes that Elena’s right; she is being easier on her friend now that she knows Elena is dead. She feels a little guilty, because she hadn’t realized it. It’s stupid because she’s done a fine job of distancing herself from Mystic Falls, even limiting her contact with Bonnie to a few times a year. It’s not possible for her to know what’s going on in her hometown with the life she’s been leading. It has more to do with the dreams than anything else. If she believes that this is truly Elena (and she’s not totally sure if she believes it or just wants it to be true now), then that means Elena has been reaching out to her from the beyond. And Caroline ignored and shot her down every damn time.

“You should have just told me the truth,” Caroline murmurs. “I would have phoned Bonnie to find out for certain.”

“And then what?” Elena asks as she pulls a dark blue water bottle from the fridge. “You would have come down for the funeral? Let’s be realistic Caroline; you’re only coming back to Mystic Falls because of Bonnie. You’d risk facing him only for her.”

She says it with a smile, but the words sting. Caroline knows that she and Elena haven’t picked each other in a long time. Elena chose Stefan (and Damon) over her, and she chose Bonnie over Elena. Both injuries run too deep to heal properly-even after death.

“It’s okay,” Elena assures her, spinning the top off her water bottle. “What’s important is that you’re going back now. That, and blood.”

Caroline stares at her friend. “And blood?”

Elena nods and takes a long swig from her bottle. Caroline watches, a shiver of revulsion sliding down her back when a drop of liquid escapes from the corner of Elena’s mouth. The liquid is dark red instead of clear, and the speck of blood is a stark contrast to Elena’s pale skin. Caroline knows her mouth is gaping slightly when Elena puts down the bottle and her tongue darts out to catch the errant drop of scarlet.

“Blood is important too,” she says nonchalantly, as if she thinks drinking blood out of a water bottle is a perfectly mundane thing to do.

“Elena, that’s disgusting,” is all Caroline can say.

Elena sighs and then shrugs. “But it’s important.”

“Important like essential, or important like covenant?”

Elena smiles and grabs Caroline’s hand for another quick squeeze. “Don’t forget the hair.”

~*~

“So basically, you were never going to mention any of this if those bloodsuckers hadn’t shown up, am I right?”

Caroline has to bite her lip to keep from laughing. Dean’s not in the best mood right now and laughing at his indignation wouldn’t help. But mirth is easier than guilt, which she doesn’t really want to feel. She tells herself that Dean’s overreacting, but there’s a chance he’s not. She’s been so preoccupied with keeping to herself, with distancing herself from everyone, that she’s told herself all sorts of things to justify her behaviour. But the truth of the matter is that Castiel and Sam were right; she’s been hiding and Uncle Bobby would have skinned her alive for it.

In spite of this revelation, she’s not comfortable sharing. She remembers what Stefan said about Bonnie keeping everything close to her chest, and Caroline understands more than she lets on. It’s too dangerous to let others know everything; someone always uses it against you.

“I mean, I stayed for like a week. You could have told me then. Like, right after I told you that I was worried about you because you were having really bad dreams!”

Dean’s face is slightly redder than usual and his hands are gripping the steering wheel so tight that his knuckles are white. Rumsfeld’s whimpering softly from the backseat, his whine going slightly higher every time Dean raised his voice. She slides an arm back over the front seat and runs her fingers lightly through the fur on the top of his head. It settles him a bit, but infuriates Dean further.

“Would you stop petting your damn dog and answer me?”

“Don’t call him names because you’re mad at me,” Caroline says primly as she gives Dean a dark look. “It’s not his fault.”

Dean grunts and then sighs. “If you would give me half the consideration you give that dog, we might have been able to deal with this before it got this far.”

Caroline gives a sigh of her own and pulls her arm back. She can’t bring herself to look at Dean, to see the frown on his face. She’s hurt him with her silence and her secrets, and that was never her intention. She just wanted some peace after so much pain-ignoring things became easier than dealing with them. In all honesty, she’s not sure she would have ever mentioned any of this to anyone if Bonnie hadn’t been missing.

“And then you agree to go back to the one place you swore you would never go back to,” Dean continues to rail, picking up steam once more. “This is after you invite a vampire into the house. Did you fail to remember that an invitation to a vampire can’t be revoked? I don’t care if this isn’t the same dick that marked up your back-he’s still a fucking vampire.”

“What do you want from me, Dean?” she snaps suddenly. “Bonnie is missing. Did you even get that part?”

“Yeah, I get that we’re off to save a witch,” Dean grumbles. “And you know how I feel about your little Glinda-wannabe.”

“You didn’t have to come,” Caroline retorts. “You could have stayed behind.”

“Yes! I could have,” Dean agrees as he whacks the top of the wheel with his palm. “I could have said ‘fuck this-I’m going to Disneyland’. But I didn’t. Because I won’t let you go through this alone. I fucking love you, you little brat!”

This hits her hard, like it is meant to. Caroline swallows thickly and turns her eyes back to the passing outside world. “I don’t think there’s a need for so much profanity,” she mutters feebly. Dean’s response is to snort and she wipes away a few errant tears before he notices she’s gotten emotional. “I love you too, Dean. And I’m sorry that I hurt you. But I can’t change that. I can’t change anything, and trust me when I say there’s a long list of things I wish I could. But you and I know that wishes and good intentions count for less than shit these days. It’s either demons from below messing with our heads, or assholes from up high trying to dictate our lives. I just wanted to be by myself, on my own, and figure something out for myself without divine or demonic intervention. I needed to control something-maybe everything-about my life because it’s like whenever I let a little bit go to someone else, people die.”

“You’re too young,” Dean says, and leaves it at that. She wonders what he means, because she’s heard variations of it over the past five years. She’s been too young to go on a demon hunt; too young to hear what men are really about; too young to be so angry; too young to wear those shorts; too young to know good music; and too young to be so old. Maybe he means all these things, all at once.

“You’re not that much older,” she counters, leaning back in her seat to drop her head back against the headrest.

Dean chuckles, but it’s forced. “Now you’re just trying to butter me up,” he says, the humour in his voice not quite matching the expression on his face. The forced frivolity dies out quickly and Dean’s back to glaring out the front windshield. “I want to kill the bastard.”

Her heart rate picks up for a second, because she’s afraid that he will try. She loves Dean, but she’s been scared of Damon longer than she’s known Dean and some part of her worries that Damon would get the best of her friend. She knows he’s been up against the worst of the worst, but Damon’s a whole other ballgame. One never knows when he’s in a playful mood or a serious mood. He’s dangerous nonetheless, but he’s unpredictable in his mood swings and has killed suddenly and without warning many times. Sometimes, at night, she dreams of the day in the basement, of Damon clawing at her heels, and the sounds of Zach Salvatore’s neck bones cracking and shattering.

“Save it,” she says, pushing back a few pleas for calm and reason. “He’s not worth it.”

Dean’s hands go back to gripping the wheel tightly, the leather squeaking in protest under his fingers. “I’ve seen your back,” he growls. “I’ve been dreaming of killing him ever since.”

“He’s not worth it,” she repeats, but with fading resolve. She’s sounding defeated and broken, and she hates it because she’s starting to feel that way too. She hates anything and everything to do with Damon Salvatore; the thought of helping him makes her skin crawl.

“I want him dead,” Dean insists. “I don’t care what Cas says, I want him dead. And this whole plan, the one where we go and help him in any way, that makes me so fucking mad . . .”

“It’s Bonnie,” she whispers, her stomach churning as unwanted memories start to float around her mind. “It’s Bonnie. I need to help her.”

“Yeah, I heard,” Dean grumbles. “Why do you think the bastard made it out of the yard? But I still want him dead.”

She doesn’t brush away the tears this time, just shifts around in her seat so that she can peer into the back at Rumsfeld. Her dog perks up at the sight of her face, tilting his head slightly to the side before edging closer to her outstretched hand. Her fingers curl into his fur and she fights the urge to crawl into the backseat and cuddle him close to her chest. He’s like her security blanket; her smelly, drooling, hairy security blanket. And almost every damn night that she’s been tormented by thoughts and memories of Damon Salvatore, he’s been there. She needs a bit of that comfort now, but Sioux Falls is hours behind and Rumsfeld gets kind of sick when he’s been in the car too long, so grabbing him too tight wouldn’t be the best idea.

Dean’s hand suddenly sets down on her knee and she looks over to him, hand still running through Rumsfeld’s fur. Her free hand slides down and covers the one on her knee, squeezing calloused fingers tightly in reassurance and understanding.

“I want him dead too. But I think we’ll have to wait.”

Dean makes a face. “I’m not too good with waiting.”

Caroline laughs and shakes her head. “Yeah, I know. I remember.”

Dean’s face goes a little bit red once again.

~*~

_Two years and five months after Founders’ Day, Caroline Forbes finds herself haunted._

_“Hello Caroline, long time no see . . .”_

_“What the hell were you thinking? What business was it of yours?”_

_“Stupid, shallow, useless cheerleader!”_

_“Vapid little whore who comes running at the first sounds of her owner’s voice . . .”_

_“You think she’s something now? You should have seen her with him. He’d hit, scream, bite-and she’d just lay back and moan for more . . .”_

_“What are you doing? She doesn’t deserve this. She’s a washed up vampire junkie whose legs fall open at the flash of a fang . . .”_

_“Just look at her back! Still wears his mark proudly. You were so useful to him, weren’t you Caroline? Tell me, do you even know how many people he’s killed since you let him out?”_

_“You found Vicki, didn’t you? Fitting, since you’re the reason she was out there in the first place. He killed her, less than twelve hours after you let him out. How’d Mattie feel about that? Oh right, you didn’t tell him. It was much easier to hide under your bed and forget everything . . .”_

_“I’m dead because of you, you little bitch!”_

_“What was my reward for saving you? For helping you out? You ran home, hid in your bed, and didn’t tell anyone where to find my body!”_

_“I should have let him have you. After all, weren’t you panting after him less than a week later?”_

_“He owns you! For now and forever, because you’ll never forget him. It’s always going to be about him! Even if he showed up right now, on your front porch, you’d jump into his clutches at just one word . . .”_

_“You can’t outrun Mystic Falls, Caroline Forbes. Don’t you know? It’s in your blood . . .”_

_“You’re living on borrowed time, Caroline. My uncle isn’t known for letting go of his possessions. If I don’t get you here, someone else will. You’ve been marked by a Salvatore, little whore, and Salvatores never forget . . .”_

_There’s a knock on her door, but she ignores it. The knocking persists, and she continues to ignore it. Then the knob rattles as the person on the other side tries to open the door. She hears calls from both Winchester brothers, followed by more knocks, and a round of cussing. Then she hears some clicking noises and she’s amused that they even bothered picking the lock. Dean’s always been short on patience and it wouldn’t be the first time he’s kicked in her door._

_She pokes a hole through her jumble of blankets and watches as Sam and Dean push their way into her room. Sam has a warm smile for her, but it fails to make her smile like she used to. She still remembers the day he drove off with a demon, leaving her behind in a flood of tears. She tells him later that it’s okay, because Dean’s death had hurt him. But Dean’s back now (she still didn’t understand or necessarily trust that) and she still keeps him at arm’s length. He pulls and she pushes, and only God knows where they’re going to end up._

_“What are you doing?” Sam asks, his smile slightly dimmer for her lack of response._

_“Studying the Bible,” she retorts primly before covering up the hole and squeezing her eyes shut. She hopes they will get the message, but she knows they won’t. The bed jostles as they both take a seat and soon one of them is shaking her while the other is dismantling her self-made fortress, blanket by blanket. She grunts in protest, trying to shake off the shaker while fighting the other for possession of the blankets. That’s when the shaker turns into a tickler and she’s too busy shrieking and flailing to stop the blanket stealer._

_When she’s out of blankets and out of breath, Dean (the tickler) finally stops, helps her into a sitting position, and gives her an unhappy look. “You want to tell us what that was about?”_

_“Well, okay. But if you just pay more attention in class, you won’t need to borrow my notes. You see, the Witnesses-“_

_“Cut the smartass remarks and just answer the question,” Sam orders, still smiling as he tosses a bundle of sheets to the floor. “Caroline, that guy really shook you up. Who was he?”_

_Caroline groans and tries to dive underneath her pillow. She’s not ready to do this right now and it takes a lot of restraint to keep herself from biting at the hand Dean uses to stop her descent. She glares at him mutinously. “I can’t believe Uncle Bobby is letting you do this.”_

_“Bobby wants to make sure you’re okay,” Dean informs her sternly. “And he says if we want answers, we have to get them from you.”_

_“And that we have to get you out of this bed,” Sam adds on. “He was pretty adamant about that.”_

_Caroline pouts and folds her arms across her chest. “It’s my bed,” she whines. “I should be able to stay in it for as long as I want.”_

_“You’re avoiding the question,” Dean states as he reaches up and tugs on a strand of her hair. “Talk to us, Sweet Caroline.”_

_“I swear, if you don’t stop calling me that, I’ll-“_

_“Caroline,” Sam slides closer and puts a hand on her cheek. The smile is gone for now and she sees his worry plainly on his face. Her heart dips in her chest despite her strict commands for non-reaction. But it’s a stupid order because she’s got very little resistance built up against Sam Winchester. She can refuse to go back to the way they were before, but she can’t help but love him all the same._

_“His name is, was, Zach Salvatore,” she finally mutters, eyes dropping to her bed sheet. “He died almost three years ago, trying to keep me safe from . . .”_

_“The guy that marked you?” Dean finishes after she fails to speak for some time. There are tears building in her eyes, and a few spill over when she nods. Sam is there in a second, settling next to her and wrapping his arms around her. She sniffles and relaxes into his touch, telling herself that she’s not falling back into the old pattern but rather just taking some much needed comfort. It is hard enough dealing with the ghosts of her past when they were just in her head, but when they’re were in front of her, in flesh? She hasn’t thought about Zach Salvatore in a long time, but seeing him with the other Witnesses, feeling his rage towards her . . . She can’t even describe the feeling. She just knows that every word he spat at her was like a knife gouging into her sides._

_She thinks it’s worse because he might be right about everything. Damon’s been dogging her mentally ever since she left Mystic Falls and there is this irrational and unfounded fear that he would come looking for her. She knows in the grand scheme of things that she means very little to Damon. He most likely doesn’t notice her absence, or is indifferent to it. The only time she thinks it would affect him would be the times when Elena suffers for it. And that’s where the real fear comes into play. Bonnie always tells her (their conversations are few and far between-she thinks they’ve emailed each other once in the past nine months) that Elena and Matt still miss her. Damon wouldn’t give two shits about Matt’s feelings, but Elena’s feelings? He might care then. He might even care enough to do something about it . . ._

_The idea of Damon Salvatore coming to collect her is enough to drive her mad._

_“Where?”_

_The question is sudden, and unexpectedly from Sam. She blinks in confusion, not sure that she heard correctly. But his eyes are deadly serious and Dean’s got the same determined look. She moves away from Sam and pushes herself up against her headboard, shooting disbelieving glances at both brothers. “You have to be kidding.”_

_“Just show us, Caroline.” Dean’s voice is firm, but gentle. She wants to tell him to go to hell, but the words catch in her throat. She wouldn’t wish him back there, not even in jest. Not now._

_She sends Sam a pleading look, but he’s heard enough from Zach that he’s right into revenge mode. She understands the Winchesters better than they know; they’re just looking for that extra kick to send them over to Mystic Falls, loaded down with vervain weapons and wooden stakes. She imagines a confrontation between them and Damon, and she can’t decide who would prevail._

_That scares her more than the prospect of Damon coming for her._

_“You cannot go there,” she says forcefully. “You cannot. I mean it; you two stay the hell away from Mystic Falls.”_

_“Just show us Caroline.”_

_“NO!” she leaps up from her sitting position, towering above both Winchesters with a frown on her face. “You are not going there! I will show you the marks, I’ll show you anything you want. But you can’t go there. Please.”_

_“I don’t care who he is,” Sam growls. “He doesn’t get to get away with this.”_

_“He’s already gotten away with it!” she shrieks. “No one back home even remembers! Elena barely bothered to care at all! Don’t you get it? He did those things to me, almost all of them knew about it, and no one but Bonnie holds it against him. They don’t care because it was me. They probably think like Zach, that I invited it. Maybe they’re right-“_

_“He’s dying now!” Dean shouts, his face an ugly mask of fury. “Sammy! Get in the car!”_

_“NO!” she bounds off the bed and slams her door shut, blocking their way with her own body. “You can’t go there! Please! I don’t know what would happen if-I can’t lose anyone else to him. Please! Just don’t. I couldn’t stand it if he . . .”_

_She’s so overcome with tears that she can’t continue. She slides down the length of the door, knees coming up against her chest while her head falls forward, hiding her face behind a curtain of dark blonde hair. She’s joined on the ground by both Sam and Dean, an arm from each brother tossed over her shoulders._

_Caroline makes Sam and Dean promise to never step foot in Mystic Falls without her permission. And after they do, she turns and lifts her shirt, showing them the marks on her back and telling them the story that goes with them._

_Two years and five months after Founders’ Day, Dean swears that he will kill Damon Salvatore one day and Sam holds Caroline close to his chest._

~*~

“Okay, so let’s review. What are the rules?”

Dean shoots her an annoyed look as they climb out of the car. Caroline keeps her eyes on him, trying to put off looking at their destination as long as she can. Rumsfeld is whining in the backseat and Dean ducks back down to let him out. Within seconds the dog is galloping around the car, smashing his nose into the back of Caroline’s knees. She laughs at his excitement, bending down to hug him nice and proper.

“Crazy mutt,” is all Dean can say. She looks up to see him disappearing behind the open trunk and she’s over there immediately, a stern look on her face as he picks out a weapon or five.

“The rules?” she needles him, frowning when he responds by shoving a handgun into her hand. “I have a gun.”

“Now you have two,” Dean says before lifting up the hem of her shirt and shoving another gun into the waistband of her jeans. “And now you have three.”

“Okay, that’s a little too liberal with the touching of the clothes,” Caroline rolls her eyes and removes the gun from the front of her pants to the back. She shoves the other one inside her right boot, the left one already occupied. She adjusts her jacket slightly to cover the bump left by the gun, grateful that she wore the leather one instead of a hoodie. Hoodies are too tight to conceal the number of weapons Dean obviously expected her to carry.

“Like I haven’t seen you naked,” Dean snorts as he extracts a collection of blades of varying sizes.

She punches him swiftly on the arm. “I told you that never happened,” she grumbles. “And you still haven’t learned the art of knocking.”

“Why should I?” Dean gives her a devilish grin. “The benefits to barging in are just too good. And perky.”

This earns him another, harder punch to the arm, but Caroline can’t help but laugh. Her good mood dissipates as Dean hands her two wicked looking knives, each easily the length of her forearm. “Where am I supposed to hide these?”

Wordlessly, he pulls out what looks like a really old leather belt. Closer examination reveals two sheaths attached to the belt. Dean tugs on her shirt and she sighs before taking off her jacket and lifting up her shirt. “You’re really overdoing this.”

Dean turns her around and slides the belt across her body, just below her ribcage. He pulls it tight and she gives a small grunt in protest. He’s chuckling under his breath as he fastens the buckle and then he takes the two knives from her. She feels them slide up in the sheaths, hearing a faint click as Dean closes the small buckles. When he steps away, she reaches behind experimentally. The hilts are pointing downwards; she would have to unfasten the buckles before she could pull them out. The whole movement would probably take a couple of seconds.

Vampires are faster than that.

She puts her jacket back on, arching an eyebrow when Dean slams the trunk close. “Are you done? You sure? ‘Cause I’m pretty sure I could hide a grenade or two in my bra, if you’d like.”

Dean’s response is to gaze at her chest with an over-the-top leer. She shakes her head and pulls her jacket closed. “Sorry. I was trying to make you realize how silly you were being. I forgot that you have no shame.”

“Happens to the best of us,” Dean says, not a wee bit apologetic about his behaviour. “You ready for this?”

“No,” she answers truthfully, but she turns and starts for the driveway anyway. Rumsfeld is right on her heels, his mood growing increasingly sombre the closer they got to the front door. She looks up at the large house, remembering the last time she had been there. It was that disastrous double date. She remembers spending the whole night feeling resentful towards Elena and angry at Matt. Little things like shared memories between the two of them used to be enough to send her world shaking. It seems so silly now.

But it wasn’t all bad. Her and Matt in that damnable sports car, the sweetest words she’d ever heard from a boy (at that point in her life), and the softest kiss she’s had to date. Sure the night was ruined when they found Damon dry humping Matt’s mom in the front hall, but the ten minutes before that had been nice. That memory, for all its disturbing conclusions, is still better than the other one she has of this house.

“Caroline,” Dean’s at her side, a hand on her elbow and a concerned look on his face. She blinks, trying to get her bearings. She retreats from the memories, good and bad, and manages a weak smile for him.

“The rules?” she prompts him.

“Seriously, we’re doing this now?”

“Well, if I could trust you to listen then I wouldn’t have to constantly check-“

“I listen,” Dean protests, setting off towards the front door again. He makes sure to be in front and she knows it’s a precautionary measure. He wants to be the first to greet whatever comes their way. He doesn’t understand that she wants him anywhere but at the front of the line.

She jogs to catch up, falling into step right beside him. “You never listen,” she counters, edging away a bit when he tries to put out a hand to keep her behind him. “And you need to listen right now. This isn’t a regular hunt, Dean. I’m not sure how it’s going to be, what sort of welcome I’ll be getting. I left these people and never looked back-some might not take it as well as Bonnie. So, I repeat, what are the rules?”

Dean snorts, but when she gives a particularly nasty look he relents and begins to rattle off the stipulations she had created during their trip here. “Be nice, don’t antagonize anyone, don’t look down any blouses, don’t pull a weapon on any of your former friends, and don’t shoot anyone until you say so, or unless the situation calls for it.”

“And by that I mean life or death,” Caroline fixes Dean with a stern look, pulling him to a stop right at the Salvatores’ front step. “You can’t just decide that someone being mean to me or Damon existing is a situation that calls for shooting. Agreed?”

“You,” Dean points his index finger right at her nose, “are no fun.”

“Agreed?”

“You know, these things only work in theory, rarely in practice.”

“Dean!”

Dean sighs and holds up his hands in defeat. “I will try,” he promises.

She would prefer something more definite, but with Dean she knows that’s the best she’s going to get. She does take the time to give him a sour look before she rings the doorbell. They hear footsteps heading towards the door and Caroline suddenly finds her heart racing. Her hands are shaking as she reaches out for both Dean and Rumsfeld. Her dog comes to lean against her legs, his head situated right underneath her agitated fingers. Dean frowns at her before taking a step closer, pulling her into his side and putting a reassuring hand on her back.

The door opens suddenly and Caroline only sees long denim-clad legs and a white t-shirt stretched out across an impressive physique before she hears her own name being bellowed by a very familiar voice. A flash of dark hair and dark eyes and then she’s being lifted off her feet. She squeals in surprise, but manages to get a hand up to make a slashing gesture to Dean. As she’s being spun around, she sees Dean retract his hand from his jacket, a scowl on his face.

The spin is disorienting. Caroline manages to wrap an arm around the neck of one Tyler Lockwood before she puts a hand on her back, making sure her gun doesn’t fall out due to all the jostling. Tyler’s shouting in her ears, things like “I can’t believe it!” and “Where did you go?”, as well as “Damn it’s good to have you back!”

Then he stills and slowly puts her down. His hands are still on her back, pushing slightly against the sheathed knives. Tyler gives her a strange look. “Are you wearing a corset?”

She panics for a second and then covers it with a laugh. She steps back from Tyler, wagging a finger in his face. “Is that how your mother taught you to greet old friends? If so, then I guess my line would be: Hey Tyler, boxers or briefs?”

Tyler’s mouth twists up into the smirk she’s seen him wear for most of their childhood. “Caroline, you know it’s always been about the sexy lingerie between us two. Hey, remember back in ninth grade at Tiki’s summer party?”

“No, I don’t quite recall,” Caroline says quickly.

“Well-“

“She doesn’t recall,” Dean interrupts from the doorway. “And her underwear is not any of your business.”

Tyler looks between Caroline and Dean, a confused look on his face. “Is that your-“

“No,” Caroline interjects before he can finish. “That’s just my over-protective friend. Dean, this is Tyler. Tyler, Dean.”

“Hey man,” Tyler offers his hand, not picking up on the tension in Dean’s stance or choosing to ignore it. Caroline isn’t sure which is the truthful answer; Tyler never was a particularly observant person. But she wasn’t either, back then. People change.

She shoots Dean a warning look over Tyler’s shoulder and only then does Dean relent and shake Tyler’s hand. “Hey,” he says gruffly, stepping into the front hall and looking around. “Where’s the vampire?”

“Dean!”

Tyler just shrugs. “Which one?”

“The sadistic bastard.”

“Dean!”

“Damon’s upstairs somewhere,” Tyler says with a laugh. He turns to Caroline, his smile only getting bigger when his eyes land on hers. She quickly finds herself in another hug. “Fuck! I missed you, Care. Why’d you take off like that?”

She opens her mouth but he cuts her off. “Sorry! I mean, I know why you ran off. Felt like it myself after my dad’s funeral. What I meant was, why didn’t you come back?”

That’s a harder question to answer, and though she knew someone was going to ask it sooner or later, she still finds herself unprepared. She shifts uncomfortably, grateful when Rumsfeld takes that moment to explode into the house, a hurricane of barks and snarls directed Tyler’s way.

“Rumsfeld!” Caroline feels slightly scandalized when the dog doesn’t calm down. Dean steps forward, a confused look on his face as he takes the dog by the collar. Rumsfeld starts squirming and trying to get free, not even calming when Caroline kneels down beside him and puts a hand on his head. “Rumsfeld! Stop it! Bad boy!”

“You brought a dog?” Tyler asks mildly, not the slightest bit perturbed by the fact that said dog is practically foaming at the mouth trying to get a bite of him. “Since when do you have a dog? You hate animals. Said they smell awful.”

“They do, but I’ve adjusted,” Caroline says absently, trying to calm Rumsfeld by stroking his ears. It usually works, but today the dog is just barely placated. He stops barking, but she can feel his body vibrating as a series of low growls come from his mouth. She looks at Dean in confusion, but Dean’s too busy staring suspiciously at Tyler to notice her. She follows his gaze, taking the time to look Tyler over again.

He’s big, but Tyler’s always been bigger than the other boys. He does seem to have grown even more from his teenage years, and he holds himself differently. The Tyler of her youth walked around with a permanent chip on his shoulder. He was bullish even when they were kids, a condition that got worse when they entered high school. She can’t even count the number of times she’s seen him in the middle of a brawl, always so aggressive-always taking things a bit too far. Matt was the only thing holding him back from total meltdown. Matt saw it as his job to defuse Tyler at every turn, and it worked most of the time. But the last time she had been in town, Matt and Tyler were on the outs and Matt wasn’t budging.

But that was five years ago. Tyler now seems calmer. She thinks back to Dean’s surly greeting and is actually amazed that Tyler didn’t respond with equal if not greater attitude. At sixteen, that itself would have been enough to set Tyler off. But today he laughed it off. It’s odd and so out of character that it gives her pause.

“Does this qualify as a situation?” Dean asks her grumpily. 

Caroline pushes him slightly with one hand and then turns around. “Tyler,” she says slowly, looking between her dog and her old friend. “You have something you want to share with me?”

Tyler grins toothily, and for a second she’s sort of intimidated. Then he winks and jerks his chin to the right. “Jeremy’s here,” he replies, ignoring her other question. “You should call for him.”

“You can’t get him?” Dean asks for her. Caroline snaps her mouth shut and gives Dean an aggrieved look. He doesn’t bother to take his eyes off Tyler.

“Well, he’s not exactly listening to me today,” Tyler chuckles.

Caroline fakes a pout. “Why not? You kiss Jenna?”

Tyler pauses and then laughs again. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear you were trying to get a rise out of me, Caroline Forbes.”

Caroline arches an eyebrow and straightens up. “You are different, Tyler Lockwood.”

The smile’s still there, but it’s a little forced. “Five years, Caroline,” he reminds her. “And there haven’t been very many fun days since then.”

“Want to tell me about it?”

“Want to stick around this time?”

“Tyler . . .”

He nods and leans back against the wall. “We’ll talk when you decide. But you don’t get to come back and have everyone just give into you like that, Caroline. Of course, you were always so determined to have your way.”

Dean snorts as he adjusts his grip on Rumsfeld’s collar. “Not much has changed in that department.”

Caroline regards him incredulously. “Oh, so now you’re going to make friends? I think I hate you a little right now.”

Dean shrugs. “He’s not wrong,” he says defensively.

“I think it’s refreshing to hear that you haven’t changed completely,” Tyler says. “I was afraid that you would come back all angry and biker-chick, with tattoos and piercings all over.”

Dean laughs and Caroline kicks him swiftly. Her hand comes up to rub at her collarbone, the anti-possession tattoo there suddenly itchy. She gives Tyler a big smile that doesn’t cover her discomfort one bit. “So, why isn’t Jeremy talking to you?”

“Because he’s an ass. And he knows it.”

The voice comes from the top of the staircase. Caroline looks up and sees Jeremy Gilbert, but she doesn’t quite believe it. The man walking down the stairs barely resembles the angry boy she left behind with the others. It’s not just the clothes, though seeing Jeremy in a pair of khaki pants and button up shirt is vastly different from the baggy jeans and long layered shirts he used to wear. It’s also not the hair, a short cut that actually lets her see his eyes for a change. 

It’s the calm, yet amused look on his face that shakes her. Jeremy was almost as bad as Tyler in the past, but he had actual cause for it. She remembers a sweet, eager young boy that transformed into a surly, drug-abusing teenager right before her eyes. Jeremy was always angry and that made him few friends in high school. She remembers the constantly hunched over stance he used to have, the lost look he used to have on his face during social events. It’s all gone and it’s weird, because he just lost his sister. So where’s the angry and inconsolable teenager she had been expecting?

“Jeremy?” It comes out like a question, because she’s still not sure.

“In the flesh,” he replies with a smile, coming to a stop in front of her. His eyes go up and down, taking in her appearance. He’s got one eyebrow arched and she knows that she’s surprised him as much as he has surprised her. “Caroline Forbes? In jeans and combat boots? What the hell?”

She frowns and looks down at her feet. She looks up again and shrugs. “They’re comfortable.”

“But are they designer?” She gives him a look. “And they’re still on your feet? Tyler, you sure this is Caroline Forbes?”

“Shut up!” she tries to glare but ends up laughing. “I wasn’t that bad.”

“Please, I’ve been shopping with the Cheer Trio; you were that bad.”

“Well, I-“ Caroline sputters and then stops trying to defend herself. “Shut up and hug me.”

“Yes ma’am,” Jeremy laughs and then he swoops down and hugs her tightly. The embrace carries on for a while and she can hear Jeremy letting out a deep breath. Tears threaten to spill for unknown reasons and she responds by gripping him even tighter than before. 

“I’m sorry Jeremy,” she whispers and he only laughs again.

“For what? There’s nothing you could have done, Caroline,” he pulls back and gives her a watery smile. “Not that I’m doubting how kick-ass you are as a person, but it was pretty damn bad. We’re lucky that it was only Elena and the other six. It could have been the whole town, especially if that crazy bitch had succeeded.”

Caroline nods and pushes back tears. “Yeah, Father of all Vampires sounds kind of bad.”

Dean interrupts with a loud snort. Caroline turns and looks at him curiously. “You’ve faced down Lucifer,” Dean reminds her. “Father of all Vampires should be a cake walk.”

“And here I thought we had learned our lesson about humility,” Caroline rolls her eyes and turns back to Jeremy, motioning to Dean with a jerk of her head. “Jeremy Gilbert, meet Dean Winchester. Dean meet Jeremy, and be nice this time.”

“I wasn’t bad before,” Dean argues, looking to Tyler to back him up. Tyler just shrugs.

“Don’t worry if you were,” Jeremy says as he steps forward with his hand outstretched. “Tyler brings that out in most people.”

“Do you see what I have to put up with?” Tyler asks Caroline.

“And yet I’m the one with premature greying,” Jeremy tells Dean as they shake hands.

“Well, at least this hasn’t changed,” Caroline motions between Jeremy and Tyler with her hands and grins. “I see facing down evil to save the town has brought you two closer together.”

“He’s still walking isn’t he?” Tyler points to Jeremy, a smirk on his face.

“So, you’re Dean Winchester,” Jeremy says, ignoring Tyler as he steps back. He spares a second to give Rumsfeld a curious look and then continues. “You’re pretty famous, dude.”

“I am?” Dean shoots Caroline a confused look.

“Angels,” she says in reply.

Jeremy nods. “They could not shut up about you.”

“And not necessarily in a good way,” Tyler adds. “From the sounds of it, you gave them a bit of grief last year. Good on you, man.”

“Aww, you have fans,” Caroline winks at Dean.

“Shut it, Blondie,” Dean growls and looks at Jeremy. “So, where’s the asshole vampire?”

“Dean!”

“Wow, you are persistent. I’m like blushing.”

The voice comes from directly behind her. A little of his breath brushes against her ear and she’s frozen. Wide eyes shoot to Dean, and he’s already moving forward. Unfortunately, to do so, he has to let go of Rumsfeld. Her dog takes the sudden freedom as a chance to dive for Tyler with teeth bared. Jeremy shouts in alarm and there’s chaos for a few seconds. She doesn’t bother turning around, she just falls forward as Dean swings his fist at Damon. 

She hears the fight, hears the grunts and slams. Her right hand is already going to her boot while her left is reaching around her body. She gets up, spinning around as her legs straighten, guns ready in her hands. She doesn’t stop moving even when she sees Damon slam Dean into the wall, one hand on the shorter man’s throat and the other holding Dean’s left hand (and gun) above his head. She spots a blur of activity on the stairs and moves her right hand in that direction.

Things come to a standstill. The blur’s stopped to become Stefan, who’s got his eyebrows almost in his hairline as he looks at the gun she has pointed at his face. She barely gives him a glance, turning her eyes to Damon, pushing the mouth of her gun harder against the back of his head.

“Don’t,” is all she says.

“Caroline has a gun,” she hears Jeremy whisper from somewhere behind her.

“Actually, she has two guns,” Tyler whispers back. She doesn’t hear even a sound from Rumsfeld, and she’s worried that something’s happened to her dog. But Damon’s got Dean by the throat and she can’t really afford to be distracted by that. However, her heart pounds slighter faster out of worry for her dog.

“Damon,” Stefan sounds more annoyed with his brother than he does about the gun in his face.

“I barely touched him,” Damon finally says. “I don’t know what she’s all angry about.”

Caroline jabs the gun into his head harder. “I’m not talking to you,” she informs him tersely. Damon stills and turns his head slowly to look at her. She just arches an eyebrow, swallowing the urge to scream at the hungry look in his icy blue eyes. She has nightmares about those eyes; she thinks she’ll be having another one tonight.

Damon very slowly turns back to Dean and then steps off. She takes a few steps back herself, keeping both guns aimed at the vampires. As he steps away from the Hunter, Damon finally gets a good look at what Dean’s been doing with his free hand. The hand is held close to Dean’s stomach and is currently holding Dean’s second gun. The other gun is still pointed up, aimed at Damon’s heart, and there’s a grim smile on Dean’s face.

“You are so fucking lucky she’s that damn quick,” Dean tells the vampire, roughly shaking off Damon’s hold on his other hand. He brings up both guns and moves until he’s standing next to Caroline.

“That was not a situation,” she hisses at him out of the corner of her mouth.

“It was so a situation,” is his reply.

Caroline rolls her eyes and looks to Stefan. “We’re going to put up the guns. Control your brother.”

“Like that’s going to happen,” Damon mutters and Stefan fixes him with a dark look. The elder Salvatore shakes his head and then backs up towards the staircase, his hands raised defensively. “Fine, whatever.”

Stefan nods at her when Damon’s a good distance away and she slowly lowers her weapons. Dean is more stubborn and she has to elbow him before he puts away the guns for real. She gives him a disappointed look and then turns her head to check for Rumsfeld. Tyler and Jeremy have taken a seat on the floor right next to each other, and Rumsfeld is actually laying down next to Tyler quite calmly. Tyler catches her perplexed stare and winks at her, bringing up a hand to pet Rumsfeld’s head.

“We worked it out,” Tyler assures her.

“These people are weird,” Dean tells her bluntly.

“We’re not the ones waving guns at people,” Jeremy replies with an easy smile.

“Those,” Dean points a finger at Stefan and Damon, “are not people.”

Caroline watches as Stefan’s eyes darken and Damon snickers from his spot by the staircase. “Shut up, Dean,” she warns him. “You’re not helping.”

“And we’re not staying here any longer.”

“Well, you’re not invited to stay any longer,” Damon counters. “I dislike having weapons waved about in my house. Get out.”

“Damon, remember what Bonnie said,” Stefan pleads. “We need Caroline.”

Damon shrugs. “I didn’t say she couldn’t stay. In fact, the Mystic Queen is welcome to stay as long as she likes.”

Caroline shoves Dean’s hand away from his gun before he can get a good handle on it. He grunts unhappily, but lets his hand fall harmlessly to his side. Caroline looks to Stefan. “Now what?”

“Well, Mom’s getting off work at five,” Tyler answers for the vampire. “And the meeting usually takes place at our house around six. Why don’t Jeremy and I take you to Bonnie’s house? Matt’s waiting for you over there anyway.”

Stefan nods in agreement. “We’re not invited there,” he assures Caroline. “Bonnie was pretty adamant.”

Caroline understands; Bonnie is as cautious as Caroline when it comes to vampires. All vampires. “Where’s her dad?”

“Vacationing in Europe,” Damon answers before Stefan can open his mouth. “Permanently. Little witch thought it would be best. Funny, she doesn’t have a problem asking me to compel a person when she deems it necessary. I thought it was a bit hypocritical, but who am I to question the great Bonnie Bennett?”

She’s getting angrier with every word he utters. Bonnie’s not a topic she wants to discuss with him. And not in the way he’s going about it.

“Shut up, Damon,” Jeremy gets to his feet and smiles at Caroline. “So, let’s get going.”

Tyler rises and whistles at Rumsfeld. Caroline goes wide-eyed when Rumsfeld gets up and follows, panting happily. Dean is backing up towards the door slowly, one hand still on the gun underneath his jacket. He’s glaring certain death Damon’s way and the vampire’s grinning like a madman as he wiggles his fingers at them. “See you later, Caroline.”

She pulls Dean out of the house before he can say or do anything else. Once outside, she gives him a little shove. “The rules?”

“I didn’t shoot anyone, did I?” Dean grins at her and then nods towards where Tyler is leading a complacent Rumsfeld down the driveway. “When did he turn into the Dog Whisperer?”

Caroline shakes her head and follows after them, an ache starting up between her temples. They’ve been in Mystic Falls for less than two hours and Dean already pulled a gun on Damon. She isn’t sure how she’s going to keep them apart while they search for Bonnie and she’s a little aggravated with Dean for giving her something else to worry when she’s already stretched thin. They are definitely having a talk the minute she can get some privacy.

“We can follow you,” she tells Jeremy as he heads toward Tyler’s car. Well, she’s assuming it is Tyler’s car because it’s a brand new Mercedes. She whistles for Rumsfeld and waits for a tense second before her dog trots over to her side. Tyler’s grinning at her from beside his car, his hand on the driver’s side handle, and there’s a teasing quality to his smile that makes her feel uneasy.

“Dude,” Tyler calls, looking at Dean. “Nice car.”

Dean nods in acknowledgement, a smiling curving his lips.

“You know, he’s not so bad.”

Caroline resists the urge to scream and stomps her way to the car.

Men.

~0~


	5. Part Five

_It’s nearly three years after Founders’ Day and Caroline Forbes is set upon by an Angel of the Lord._

_She’s in the library with her back against one of the bookshelves. She has a clear view of the front hall, but she’s pulled her knees up to her chest and is resting her forehead on them. She’s been taking this defensive position more and more often these past months and though Uncle Bobby hates it, she likes the sense of isolation it gives her. From behind a wall of hair, it’s almost like she’s cut herself off from the outside world. Everything beyond does not exist and she can just sit and pretend that all’s right with the world._

_It’s harder to do today. She can hear Dean and Uncle Bobby shouting at each other and Sam faintly. She doesn’t want to think about what’s going on down there in the panic room. She doesn’t want to think of Sam, her Sam, lying trapped while Dean and her uncle looked on. She doesn’t want to think of Sam period, because it brings to mind images of Sam and Ruby doing things that make her want to die. She doesn’t want to be crying over Sam Winchester because she ended it months ago and this shouldn’t hurt as much as it does._

_Mostly, she doesn’t want to be so love in Sam that finding out he’s been drinking Ruby’s blood and having sex with the demon for almost a year breaks her heart so completely. She doesn’t want it to hurt worse than seeing Matt kissing someone she thought was Elena, doesn’t want it to hurt more than knowing that Elena made friends with a vampire that bled and abused her. She doesn’t want it to feel like her heart has shattered and that the jagged pieces are now ripping apart her insides._

_Caroline should know better than to want things that will never happen._

_“Caroline Forbes.”_

_She starts, surprised by the unfamiliar voice. Reluctantly, she raises her head and pushes back her hair. Standing by the couch is a tall man with dark hair, dressed in a rumpled grey business suit and a trench coat that has seen better days. His face is blank as he stares at her unblinkingly. She knows who he is, has heard about him from Uncle Bobby and the Winchesters, but she hasn’t met him before today. The first time Uncle Bobby met him, when Dean first came back from Hell, he made Caroline stay at home. They hadn’t been sure who or what Castiel was then and after watching Pamela have her eyesight burned away, Uncle Bobby didn’t want her anywhere near the creature._

_She remembers the argument they had that day, but Uncle Bobby wouldn’t budge and neither Winchester disagreed with him. She had been left behind, put in charge of taking care of Pamela at the hospital until one of the three contacted her. When they came back with stories of angels and God, she hadn’t believed them. But with the things she’s seen this year alone-Caroline Forbes is now a believer._

_She’s just not happy about it._

_She wipes back a few tears, but doesn’t bother getting up. “What do you want now, Wings?”_

_He frowns at the nickname and walks further into the room. He looks at her laptop in idle curiosity, reaching out with a finger to touch the screen. It’s open to a webpage on Lucifer and an analysis of his presence in the Bible. Caroline’s having a hard time wrapping her mind around the idea of the Devil himself walking the earth again. It’s like something out of a really bad movie._

_“You are not downstairs, watching over Sam Winchester,” he says after a while. “I was led to believe you loved him.”_

_She narrows her eyes at the angel. “You are not here to discuss my boyfriend troubles,” she snarls. “What do you really want? Come for more pledges of fealty and obedience to the one true God? Oh wait, I forgot, you guys only care about Dean.”_

_“Yes, we do,” Castiel nods, not the slightest bit affected by her accusatory tone. “But I must admit I am curious about you. Dean thinks of you a lot, as much as Sam and Bobby. He says it is worry. I felt I should meet you.”_

_Caroline shakes her head and laughs in disbelief. “You know, in your own way, you’re as bad as the demons.”_

_He doesn’t look offended, but his eyes are a bit wide as he looks at her. “Why do you say that?”_

_“You’re all about possession and subordination.”_

_Castiel shakes his head. “Dean made the choice.”_

_“After you blackmailed him,” she says, her face twisted into a dark sneer. “You may not have said ‘do this or else’, but you’ve been studying him this past year. You know his weaknesses. You went for the biggest when you waved Sam’s well-being in front of his face. You played him, as well as a demon would. Congratulations.”_

_Castiel tilts his head and gazes at her curiously. “Do you believe in God?”_

_She rolls her eyes at this change in topic. “It’s a little hard not to believe when there’s a freaking angel two feet away.”_

_“That’s not what I meant,” he continues, coming closer and then taking a seat on the floor right in front of her. She straightens at his proximity and brings her knees even closer to her chest. She stares at him in open distrust and he just gazes back calmly. “I was asking if you have faith in God and His ways.”_

_“You mean a God that dangles one brother in front of the other to get His way? A God that orders the destruction of an entire town of innocent people to stop one of its citizens?” she shakes her head. “Dean’s good at telling stories. And no, I don’t have faith in His plan if it involves the deaths of so many people. Call me old fashioned, but I don’t like any plan that includes leeway for casualties.”_

_“You want an unrealistic plan that promises to save everyone?”_

_“I want a God that doesn’t want us to accept the deaths of thousands as a price to pay for the greater good! If we’re really the good guys, we shouldn’t be okay with that. If we’re human in any way, we shouldn’t just say ‘oh okay’ and then get on with the plan. We should want to save them; we should try and not be punished for it!”_

_Castiel frowns. “You think Dean is being punished.”_

_“I think you’re setting two men that I love on a path to ruin,” Caroline sniffs back a few tears. “Why do you need Dean’s oath so bad? Is the future that bleak?”_

_“The Apocalypse is nigh; it is very bleak.”_

_“That’s not what I meant,” Caroline glares at the stoic man in front of her. “You would only need Dean’s oath if you knew that whatever’s coming is not something he wants to do. You’ve got an agenda, Oh Blessed Angel of the Lord. And I don’t trust you.”_

_Castiel blinks. “You are like your ancestors in that fashion. They were the hardest to convince.”_

_Caroline drops her knees, her legs folding into the Indian-styled position as she leans forward a bit. “What did you say?”_

_“But for all their scepticism, your ancestors had courage. They believed in sacrifice, in preserving the safety of others before their own,” Castiel pauses and leans forward as well, his face suddenly very close to her own. “I wonder if you could be as noble. Will you, Caroline Forbes, sacrifice for the sake of others?”_

_Caroline backs away, uncomfortable at his nearness. “I shouldn’t have to,” she responds sullenly. “A loving God wouldn’t make me.”_

_Castiel sighs and gets to his feet. “You don’t understand the nature of God, do you?”_

_Caroline shrugs and pulls her knees back up to her chest. “I think I understand enough.”_

_Three years past Founders’ Day and Caroline Forbes understands that God isn’t dead, He’s just totally indifferent. And that’s the worst thing she could imagine._

~*~

Her reunion with Matt does not go as well as with Jeremy and Tyler. It has something to do with his injuries, because he’s a bit too stiff to do much hugging. But there’s also something guarded in his expression, an accusation that he is struggling not to say.

“You shouldn’t have left,” is what he says instead.

She replies: “I couldn’t stay. You don’t know the whole of it.”

He shrugs: “You should have told me.”

It ends there, because what else can they say? Matt’s happy to see her again, alive and well, and she’s glad to see he’s recovering. But there’s a chasm between them now, born more out of her failure to make contact than anything else. He knows she had problems with Elena, knows that it had something to do with Damon. But she understands the real issue is that she chose to speak with Bonnie while ignoring him. 

She isn’t sure if you could call what they had back then love, but if you can, it was most certainly ‘puppy love’. Whatever the case, they had a connection. They shared things. And maybe she should have talked to him (emailed, texted, whatever), but she stayed mum for five years because she was afraid he would try to make her come home. Bonnie, who understood better than anyone, still made various arguments in favour of Caroline returning to Mystic Falls. Caroline doesn’t doubt that Matt would have been the same way, if not more aggressive. He might have even shown up in Sioux Falls, ready to drag her back home if need be. That wasn’t a risk she was willing to take at the time.

It’s worse when Matt meets Dean, because there’s this weird contest that seems to spring up between them. She thinks it’s because they are both men she regards with deep affection and neither approves of the other.

“You look different,” Matt comments off hand.

“She looks fine,” Dean snaps before Caroline can respond.

Matt glares at the older man, clearly offended. “I never said she didn’t.”

Dean snorts and Caroline has to lay a hand on his arm to stop further squabbling. Matt’s face is stony and unhappy as his eyes narrow in on her hand, and she stops it quickly, feeling guilty and awkward. She repeatedly tells Matt that Dean is not her boyfriend and Matt assures her it wouldn’t be a problem if he were. But it’s very obvious that it would be a problem and Caroline isn’t sure what she can do about it.

And Sam isn’t even here yet.

The meeting Tyler previously alluded to is indeed set for six o’clock. Caroline and Dean have a couple of hours to claim rooms and unload their stuff before they have to leave for the Lockwood manor. Dean does nothing to help alleviate the tension in the house when he insists on sharing a room with Caroline. She agrees because she thinks it’s better if she can keep an eye on Dean at all times. Matt fumes as Jeremy leads both Caroline and Dean upstairs. She hears Tyler telling Matt to calm down before they reach the second floor. As soon as Jeremy leaves them in Mr. Bennett’s old room, Caroline turns to Dean and firmly reminds him of Rule Number One: Be nice. Dean nods before jumping on the bed and he actually slams the headboard into the wall a few times before she punches him in the shoulder and orders him to grow up.

She wishes Dean would behave. Her hand is starting to hurt from having to hit him so much.

When she steps into the front foyer of Tyler’s house, she’s taken back to the night of the Founders’ Ball for just one minute. Damon had compelled her to bring him along as her date and her mother had gone on high alert the second they walked into the house. She remembers the brief argument when her mother had yanked her from Damon’s side. Her mother had wanted to know everything about Damon and Caroline told her to back off. It wasn’t any different from the other fights they had had about boys, but looking back, Caroline can’t help but wish it had gone differently. She wonders how her life would have been different if she had just taken the time to listen to her mother that day. Or any other day prior to that. Maybe she never would have ended up in her room with Damon Salvatore that first night. Or maybe she would have, but she wouldn’t have been there willingly. That’s the exact thing that bothers her about her relationship with Damon; she had been willing at first. She thinks that if she had had more self-restraint (or more self-respect) then she wouldn’t hate herself so much at present.

Carol Lockwood is almost exactly the same as Caroline remembers. There are some signs of how much time has passed (Carol’s got a few new wrinkles she hadn’t before and her hair is starting to grey), but the poise and the elegance are the same. Caroline looks wistfully at Carol as she approaches, remembering a time when she wanted to be exactly like the Mayor’s wife because she was just so classy. She looks back and thinks that maybe her mother was right in saying Caroline needed better goals. Being classy and elegant hasn’t done Carol Lockwood any favours. She still lost her husband unnecessarily and the danger her Council is supposed to save the town from is no longer something she can contain. The outside packaging looks good, but there are cracks in the veneer and they’re starting to show.

Carol greets her with a hug that feels pretty sincere. Caroline remembers the way Carol tried to take care of her after she had seen her mother’s body. She feels bad because she isn’t being gracious with her assessment of Carol Lockwood and there’s definitely more to the lady than just style and image. Carol Lockwood was a friend of her mother and she had watched Caroline grow alongside her own son. She cares for Caroline, in some way, and Caroline resolves to be more charitable in her thoughts of Tyler’s mom.

She wonders if this is a Council meeting, because there are a lot of faces she remembers from her youth. Tina Fell is sitting in the armchair of the Lockwood living room with her eyes closed and a hand pressed against one side of her face. Caroline looks at her and barely sees the airheaded girl from high school (and yes she’s aware the same could be said of her). But with Tina the change is starkly obvious. The girl looks like she hasn’t rested in days and she fidgets when anyone gets too close. She’s a bit like a caged animal, opening her eyes only periodically to gaze about the room in horror.

Her one-time date to the Miss Mystic Falls pageant, Jeffrey Lockwood-Hamilton, is also there. He’s standing in the far corner of the room with his father and another older man she doesn’t recognize. A couple of her mother’s old deputies are there in uniform and the sight of so many police officers makes Dean a bit twitchy. She gives him an amused look whenever he tries to hide behind her. Of course, he’s not necessarily wrong to do so. Dean’s bad luck with the law is sort of epic. He’s wanted on several charges, among them murder (of which he is innocent), credit card fraud (of which he is so guilty), and armed robbery (which is really only half-true). He’s also been declared dead a couple times by the authorities, so he tries to do his best to avoid any law enforcement types lest he be found and undeclared dead (again).

Jenna is there, along with Mr. Saltzman, and she’s so pregnant that Caroline’s jaw drops to the floor. Jenna is happy and excited to see her, eyes misting as she hugs Caroline close. She pulls back and runs a hand down Caroline’s hairline and Caroline can see the memories as they go through Jenna’s mind. The sleepovers, the makeovers, the movie nights-three best friends who used to turn to her for style tips and guy advice. Jenna goes from happy to regretful in under a minute and even Caroline’s shed a few tears by the time Alaric gets his wife under control. Of course, Caroline doesn’t realize that Jenna is his wife until Jeremy whispers it into her ear. She congratulates the couple awkwardly and does her very best not to cry again when Jenna talks of naming the baby after Elena, if it turns out to be a girl.

It’s exhausting being amongst so many people after months of self-exile. Dean’s always close and Caroline keeps grabbing his hand and hugging him for comfort. This doesn’t help the situation with Matt (who’s watching them from across the room), but she needs the support. Tyler made her leave Rumsfeld at the Bennett house, stating it would just be weird if she brought her dog. Unfortunately Dean was on his side about that one, and Caroline quickly found herself being shoved into the front seat of the Impala while Rumsfeld watched from the living room window.

Stefan arrives with Meredith in tow. Caroline immediately goes on alert, searching for Damon in the crowd. She knows Dean is doing the same thing. She wants to ask Stefan where Damon is hiding, but Dean’s shooting Stefan a lot of dirty looks and Caroline figures the best way to avoid another fight would be to keep Dean well away from any Salvatore.

“It’s starting,” Tyler whispers as he joins her and Dean, indicating they should follow him somewhere. Caroline falls into step behind him, Dean right at her back. Tyler leads them to the front of the room, near the fireplace. He waves his hand towards one of the couches and Caroline takes a seat on the end. Dean plants himself on the armrest closest to her and folds his arms over his chest as he surveys the room with a glare. He’s being practical, even now. Sitting directly on the couch makes it harder to reach the gun tucked into the back of his jeans, and Dean’s too wired to relax. She knows it’s because he can’t see Damon and that’s making him antsy. It’s not doing wonders for her either.

“All right everyone, let’s get started.” Carol comes to stand directly in front of the unlit fireplace, a serene smile on her lips that is meant to put everyone at ease. It’s not doing its job, because the tension in the room has gone up at least ten notches since she spoke. Caroline lets her eyes travel the room, taking in the pinched faces and the furrowed brows.

“Firstly, I would like to welcome back Caroline Forbes,” Carol turns in her direction and smiles gently. “It’s good to have all our Founding Families properly represented once again.” 

Caroline returns her smile only minimally, because she can feel the weight of everyone’s eyes on her now. Once, she would have been overjoyed with the attention. Now, she’s a shadow of the girl she used to be and she knows over half the room is wondering where the hell she’s been for the past two years. The Founding Families and the town leaders are supposed to come together when Mystic Falls is threatened. Her absence was not only noted, but resented. It takes a lot of willpower not to shrink down and hide behind Dean.

“We are still looking for leads into the disappearance of Bonnie Bennett,” Carol switches topics quickly, waving to indicate a police officer to her left. The officer steps forward and she sees from his badge that there’s a new sheriff in Mystic Falls. And for the first time in a hundred and fifty years, this one isn’t named Forbes.

“We’ve combed the area where Miss Bennett’s car was found, and we’ve got nothing new,” the sheriff pauses and looks directly at Matt. “We’re working from a pretty shaky base as it is. Neighbouring counties have been alerted to her disappearance. We’ve got her picture up in half the police stations in this state. So far, nothing. They’re hiding her pretty good. As well, with Isobel Fleming’s knowledge of the surrounding area, the search is taking a while.”

“Thank you sheriff,” Carol smiles politely as the sheriff nods and walks back into the crowd. “Now, I know most of you are worried about a repeat of last time. But we’re ahead of them this time. We know when and where they have to move-Stefan?”

“They need a full moon,” Stefan affirms from near the entry way. “The ritual is pretty specific. A full moon, a Salem witch, and a bloodletting. We’re still working on the bloodletting part. There’s been no rise in disappearances in the area. We still don’t know who Isobel plans to sacrifice, or how many.”

“But we know the place and the time,” Carol finishes for him. “The safety of this town has always fallen on this Council. I know that many of you are new and are still adjusting to the truth we’ve shared with you. But the strength of the Council has always come from the conviction of its members. This is our town; we know how to protect it. Isobel Fleming is not her ancestor; she is not Katherine Pierce. And if we don’t find her before the next full moon, we’ll take care of her at Willow Creek.”

“Willow Creek?” Caroline repeats softly. Dean turns at the sound of her voice and gives her a curious look. She whispers an explanation to him. “It’s nearby-there was a really bad Civil War battle there. The place always gave me the creeps.”

“We know for a fact that they’re still in the area.” This comes from a new voice, one that makes Caroline stand up straighter. Her entire body is taut with tension as her eyes sweep the room looking for the owner of the voice. Dean’s hand is on her back, but she barely feels it. She’s looking from face to face, searching for the man who’s preoccupied her thoughts almost as much as Damon has since Founders’ Day.

John Gilbert steps forward, emerging from the group of people huddled around the Lockwood-Hamiltons. The past five years have not been kind to John Gilbert. He’s still dressed in his pristine dark blue suit and his voice is still strong and full of authority, but he’s aged a lot. His hair is noticeably greyer and there’s an angry red scar running down the left side of his face. He also limps a bit as he walks and the hand on which he’s wearing that big, ugly family ring of his is missing a finger. He looks like he’s been through a lot.

She should feel sympathy; she has only hate.

“My sources tell me that quite a few blood banks in the surrounding counties have been hit,” John continues to explain, stopping right beside Carol. “The robberies are random, but tend to happen within a three week period of the preceding theft. There are never any witnesses and no workers have gone missing. ‘Animal attacks’ are not on the rise, neither are unexplained deaths or disappearances. She’s got her followers on a very tight leash. To force this kind of discipline on a group of vampires takes a lot of skill and power. You shouldn’t underestimate Isobel just because of her age. She’s a very capable woman.”

“You would know.” It takes her a second to realize that she’s spoken out loud. Dean’s looking down at her with a frown on his face and she knows that most of the room is looking at her in the same manner. She stifles the urge to sink back into the couch and lifts her chin just a bit. Her eyes catch John’s and she sees hesitation with a smidge of resignation there.

“I do know,” he says with a slight nod, his voice softer than before. “And I think we’re getting too complacent because Katherine is dead. We lost a lot dealing with Katherine, some more than others. We should take every precaution necessary.”

Caroline’s so preoccupied with glaring at John that she doesn’t register the fact that someone has joined her on the couch until he speaks. “The vervain is ready for cultivation,” is all the warning she gets. Caroline leaps off the couch and into Dean, eyes wide and chest heaving as she looks down at Damon Salvatore. Dean curses and tries to grab for a weapon, but she’s retained enough sense to grab his hands. She has to plant herself firmly on his lap, an uncomfortable position since he’s trying to get a gun free, and she knows that they both look like two lunatics flailing around as they are.

Damon’s enjoying himself immensely. He doesn’t even bother to acknowledge Stefan when his brother walks over to stand beside the couch with a disapproving look on his face. Damon’s only got eyes for Caroline and Dean, though his words are for the entire room. “We’re also going to need to make sure that we have enough weapons for the sheriff’s men. Alaric’s stake-guns are fun, but they take time to reload. And let’s face it; it’s hard to get the money shot on the first try. Vampires need to be slowed down first and then staked. Tranquilizer guns with vervain ammo should do the trick. Of course, failing that, our darling Miss Mystic Falls has something else that works pretty well.”

Stefan shakes his head at his brother’s behaviour, but turns to Caroline with a contemplative look. “You said something about salt and vervain? It was damn effective.”

“Hurts like a bitch,” Damon clarifies. “And incapacitates nicely. Come on Caroline, share the ammo.”

Caroline feels Dean twitching beneath her. Every word out of Damon’s mouth is over-the-top seductive and he keeps giving her these looks that make her very uncomfortable. She knows it’s for show, because he’s still kind of mad that she shot him and Dean very nearly shot him. But it’s working nonetheless; Dean’s more than ready to fight. But she isn’t going to let him.

She turns her eyes to Carol Lockwood, noting the woman is straining to keep a serene expression despite the obvious tension in the air. “I’ll see what I can do about the ammo,” she promises her. “It might take a few days.”

Carol pastes on a smile. “That sounds wonderful,” she gushes. “Every bit helps. Of course, weapons talks are the sheriff’s field, so I’ll let you two figure it out. We are still discussing plans of action and evacuation procedures should they become necessary. The next full moon is only six days away; we have to hurry if we want to catch up. Nothing can be left to chance. This is our home; we can’t be careless.” Carol pauses and gazes about the room. “Are there any questions?”

A throat is cleared from somewhere in the back of the room. A young woman steps forward, her curly red hair in stark contrast to her pale skin. Caroline frowns and tries to place her. “Do we know why Bonnie asked all of us to gather here? I mean, I understand the Founding Families being here, but I’m not sure why she asked for the rest of us in particular.”

“I’m sorry, Mary,” Carol shrugs her shoulders. “Bonnie didn’t make her intentions clear before she disappeared. Hopefully we can find out when she’s back home. Until then, I thank you for your patience and your continued attendance.”

There are some murmurs from various parts of the room, but that appears to be the end of the official meeting. Caroline has more questions than she had this afternoon and she wants Tyler to answer them for her. But her need for answers is nothing compared to her need to be far away from both Damon Salvatore and John Gilbert. She actually hadn’t considered running into John again, forgot all about it in the shock of Bonnie’s disappearance and the news of Elena’s passing. But standing in the same room as him brought it all back. Caroline feels like she’s unravelling from the inside out. Her hands, still holding Dean’s down at his sides, are shaking again. She knows Damon sees this, that he understands he is one of her weaknesses, but she’s determined not fall apart here.

Stefan’s still standing guard over his brother when Caroline gets up off Dean’s lap. She averts her eyes, not wanting to look at either Salvatore at the moment. She drops one of Dean’s hands but tugs him forward by the other. He grunts and he’s probably glaring death at Damon behind her, but he follows quickly at her behest. She nods briefly towards Carol before heading towards the front hall. She’s dodging in and out of the crowd, Dean mimicking her movements, and she’s so focused on getting out that she doesn’t see John making his way towards her until he steps directly in her path.

She halts abruptly, Dean bumping into her from behind. John’s looking directly at her and she feels rage start to creep up her spine and replace the fear Damon had drawn out of her. It’s unbelievable that he’s there, standing in front of her, wearing that look on his face. It’s a look of carefully constructed sympathy and right then, she wants nothing more than to give him a matching scar on the right side of his face.

“Caroline,” he stops and gives her a small smile. She grits her teeth and squeezes her hands into fists. John doesn’t notice, or he doesn’t care. He opens his mouth again; she wants to hit him. “It’s good to see you back. I know it must be difficult being here, with everything that happened to your mo-“

She claims temporary insanity. She claims too much stress in too short a time period. The Devil made her do it, or he would if he wasn’t stuck Below for all eternity (she’s hoping it’s actually an eternity this time around). All she knows is that John Gilbert is in her way, talking to her like he wasn’t responsible for her mother dying in a horrifying manner, and she just can’t hear it.

Her right hand lets go of Dean’s and slides up underneath her shirt. Before even Dean can guess what she’s doing, Caroline’s snapped off the buckle to one of her knives and pulled the blade out from its sheath. She moves the second the buckle snaps open, her left hand going out and grabbing a surprised John by the throat. She pushes him right back into the wall, the back of his head colliding against the wood with a satisfying thud. The knife’s out and at his throat before Tina Fell can even finish her first scream. The rest of the room erupts into noise and she hears Dean telling someone to back off as she presses the knife tight against John’s throat. The man swallows nervously, wincing when she presses too hard and there are a few drops of blood sliding down his neck and onto his dress shirt. Caroline sneers at his expression, leaning in close and making him see the deadly intent in her eyes.

“Don’t fucking talk to me,” she warns him, saying each word slowly so he catches every one. “Don’t ever talk to me.”

John nods feebly and she presses the knife harder still, causing more blood to leak out. Finally, she pulls back, releasing her hold on his throat and shoving the knife back into its sheath. She takes a step back from him, watching the fearful look on his face fade away into incredulity. She spares him one last glare before turning around. 

She sees Dean standing with a restraining hand on Jeremy’s shoulder. Jeremy looks a bit pale in the face as he looks between Caroline and his uncle, his jaw rigid and his cheeks twitching just a bit. Jenna’s not far behind, pressing her hand against her mouth as her eyes are filling with tears. Alaric’s right behind her, patting her shoulders and whispering something into her ears. Carol is pushing her way through the crowd, a stunned Tyler right on her heels. Stefan’s standing next to Matt, who’s looking at her like he’s never seen anything more disgusting in his life. The look on his face makes Caroline want to cry, but she’s still got some of that old-Caroline dignity left and she refuses to let her shame show.

The only person in the room who’s not looking at her like she’s some freak is Damon. He’s not smiling or anything either, but the contemplative look on his face is disheartening in its own way.

Caroline turns away from the crowd and looks directly at Dean. “Let’s go.”

No one gets in her way this time.

~*~

“Being so angry all the time is going to eat you alive someday, Caroline.”

Caroline evaluates her image reflected in her vanity mirror, her right hand hovering just above her neck. Her foundation conceals most of the marks; it just needs a bit of powder to hold it in place. The one on her back is always the hardest to do. It’s also the most stubborn in healing. The ones on her neck never lasted this long, and they certainly didn’t leave behind any scar tissue like the one on her back.

“I can’t help the anger,” she finally says in reply, eyes flickering over to the top right hand corner of her mirror where she can see Elena pouting at her. “It’s been with me all this time. And it’s better than the fear.”

“But you’re not dealing with any of it,” Elena argues. “The fear you keep squashed down inside, but the anger? You feed it; add onto it every time something goes wrong. How long before it’s out of control?”

“If you’re going to be preachy, we’re going to have another fight.” Caroline puts down her makeup and turns around to look directly at her friend. She notices for the first time that Elena is wearing the dress she wore to the Founders’ Day Parade. Caroline squints and thinks of that day. It started out so well.

“Stefan didn’t like this,” Elena reveals, waving a hand to indicate her outfit. “He didn’t say it out loud, but I knew. She looked like this when he first met her. It brought up some bad memories.”

Caroline nods sympathetically. “And it totally gave Damon a boner, right?”

Elena laughs and then throws a pillow from the bed at Caroline’s head. “God, Caroline!”

She giggles and picks up the pillow from the ground. It didn’t even come close to hitting her. Elena’s spectacular aim comes into play again. “So, what’s the lesson today?”

Elena frowns and then giggles. “Wrong dream, Caroline. That was weeks ago.”

“I mean, what are you going to tell me now?” Caroline clarifies with a roll of her eyes. “Your visits aren’t just about two friends reconnecting. You always have something you want me to remember.”

“Yeah, how’s the remembering working out for you?”

Caroline arches an eyebrow at Elena’s sarcastic tone. “Hey, this is your deal. If you wanted me to remember, you should have brought it up with whoever is letting you do this. It’s not my fault all the information erases from my memory the second I wake up.”

“That’s why I had you write down ‘covenant’,” Elena says with a nod. “You’re too lazy to get up now. I tried to get you to write down the blood and the hair, but you were pretty uncooperative. But then again, you had just met up with Damon again. That probably zapped most of your strength. Of course, threatening my father with your blade must have wiped you out tonight.”

“Didn’t I tell you to not get preachy?” Caroline softens her retort with a smile and flops down on her bed. “Let’s avoid the issue of John Gilbert. We both know it’s going to spoil the mood.”

“The mood?” Elena repeats as she circles the bed. “Is this where the lesbian friendship comes into play? You still freaky like that, Caroline?”

“Like I have any control here,” Caroline rolls her eyes at Elena, and then smiles mischievously. “But you have to admit, you and me-so hot!”

Elena laughs and leans against Caroline’s window sill. “I see being back in Mystic Falls is doing you some good.”

“How do you figure?”

Elena shrugs one delicate shoulder, her right hand going behind her head to sweep her curls to one side. “You haven’t been this playful in . . . I can’t even remember. Can you?”

Caroline thinks back to her brief relationship with Sam. She thinks of hugs and kisses, laughing quietly underneath the covers because they didn’t want Uncle Bobby or Dean to hear them. It wasn’t like the other two men weren’t aware of what was happening, but privacy is hard to maintain in a house with such paper thin walls. It wasn’t long before they were sneaking out to the salvage yard and doing things in the cars that would have made Uncle Bobby angry if he knew about them.

But it all went down the toilet. Dean was going to Hell, Ruby had her claws in deep, and Sam left her. Things never returned to what they were. She never trusted him again. This new angel gig of his does nothing to remedy that. She’s done with Sam Winchester.

She’s still madly in love with him, but she’s done.

“I’m going to plead the fifth on that one,” Caroline finally replies. She turns and grabs one of her stuffed bears from her night table and hugs it close to her chest. “And you still haven’t told me what you want me to learn.”

Elena’s facing the window, leaning in to breathe hot air over a good portion of it. The window fogs up and Elena starts tracing letters onto the glass. Caroline gets up and stands behind Elena, watching as she spells Caroline’s name on the window. “You need to learn from Bonnie’s mistakes,” Elena answers when she’s done. The brunette turns slightly and smiles warmly at Caroline. “You two have been horrible at letting people in. But this isn’t something you can do alone. You’ve reached the end of the road with ‘covenant’ and you still don’t understand the importance of blood and hair.”

“You could just tell me,” Caroline says with a roll of her eyes.

“I could, but some things need to be learned,” Elena’s smile fades and she turns to face Caroline fully. “Some things need to be discovered in order for them to have any weight.”

Caroline sighs and nods. “Plus, it’s not like I’ll remember it anyway.”

Elena laughs and pulls her friend in for a hug. “Yeah, that too.”

~*~

She wakes with the feeling that something is off. The sun is hitting her right in the face, but it’s coming from the wrong side. She blinks a few times and moves about in her bed. The sheets are silkier than they should be and the pillow is softer than she is used to.

She’s not at home.

Caroline finally opens her eyes and gazes about the room. She remembers where she is and how she got here. She remembers pulling a knife on John Gilbert in a room full of people. She remembers Matt looking disgusted, Jeremy looking afraid, and Damon looking interested.

Caroline groans and turns onto her stomach, burying her face in her pillow. For a brief second she entertains the thought of going back to Sioux Falls and forgetting about this whole mess. But it’s hard to convince herself of that when she’s in Bonnie’s house, knowing that her friend is being held by a group of vampires led by someone who’s probably lost her mind.

Ick. Friendship.

“You awake for real this time?”

She’s startled by the sound of Dean’s voice, twisting herself around in the sheets as she tries to locate him. He’s sitting on a chair, near the other side of the bed. She frowns at him and looks down at the pillow and blankets she had given him last night. They are on the bed and they look like he used them. So why is Dean in a chair and looking like he’s gotten no sleep?

“Huh?” she says in response, her brain still chugging slowly through the data coming into her consciousness.

“Yup, you’re awake,” Dean sighs and gets to his feet. “That kind of high level articulation only comes when you’re awake.”

Caroline rolls her eyes and flops back down on the bed. “What? You spend all night reading the dictionary to learn new words? Finally realized ‘bitch’ is not always the most fitting response to every situation?”

“Can the wiseass remarks,” Dean says in a tired voice. “I want to talk to you. What did you dream about last night?”

She opens her mouth to retort, but thinks of his question and falls silent. She remembers bits and flashes of the dream, remembers seeing Elena. But she can’t remember where they were and what Elena may have said. Caroline sighs and struggles into an upright position. “Sorry Dean,” she shrugs hopelessly. “I can’t remember exactly. Why? Did I cry again?”

“A little,” Dean shrugs. “It was the all the sleep walking that freaked me out.”

Caroline goes completely still. “Sleep walking?”

Dean nods, rubbing the palms of his hands over his eyes. “You got up some time in the middle of the night. I thought you were going to the bathroom or something, but you didn’t come back for a while. So I got up, and you hadn’t even left the room. You were just standing at the window, eyes open and you just weren’t there. I got you back into bed, but you spent the rest of the night talking and crying. You kept saying ‘Elena’ over and over again. Plus ‘blood’, ‘hair’, and ‘freaky’, and ‘so hot’. You have a dirty mind, don’t you girl?”

Caroline gives him a look and stares at the window. She swings her legs out of bed, walking slowly over to the window. Dean’s right behind her. He gives her a confused look when they stop in front of the window and she just stares. Caroline frowns and rubs two fingers against her temple. There’s something about the window that seems like it should be familiar. Her mind flashes back to her dream, the few images of it she could remember. She closes her eyes and sees pieces of Elena’s smile, pink sheets, and pale skin littered with scars. Then, all other images are chased away by the picture of a finger on glass, tracing letters through the fog.

“Caroline?” Dean’s voice is worried and when she opens her eyes, she sees apprehension on his face. She shakes her head but doesn’t answer, instead turning back to the window. She leans forward hesitantly, pauses for one second, and then blows a puff of hot air across the glass. Letters and words materialize out of the fog and Dean lets out a curse from beside her. Caroline pulls back and looks at the message left for her last night:

TALK TO STEFAN.

Caroline snorts and turns to give Dean an aggrieved look. “She is so bossy.”

~*~

It takes a lot of arguing for Dean to agree. He doesn’t like the idea of her being alone with any Salvatore, vampire or otherwise. But as she reminds him, Dean already knows about the dreams and she’s explained ‘covenant’ to him. Between the two of them, they don’t have any definite answers. Stefan may be able to help, and besides, Elena’s message is very clear. She wants Caroline to share with Stefan.

Dean hates that she’s listening to a dead vampire more than he hates her visiting alone with Stefan.

She sends him off with Tyler towards the sheriff’s office. Matt’s absence is pronounced and it stings Caroline more than she cares to admit. Tyler seems to have recovered from the shock of last night and actually has a grin for her when she sees him that morning. He says some things about her being ‘kick-ass’ and has some outfit suggestions that would have her trawling around Mystic Falls dressed up like Halle Berry in that awful Catwoman movie.

Of course, this makes Dean grumpy because he does not like the idea of any male noticing the attractive qualities of his adopted ‘sister’. He drags Tyler out the door with him and she can hear the beginnings of a lecture on how to treat ladies. The irony is so thick that Caroline nearly chokes from all the laughter.

She’s waiting for him on the porch when he arrives. Elena might want her to talk to Stefan, but Caroline respects Bonnie’s boundaries, as Bonnie has always respected Caroline’s. Bonnie doesn’t want any vampire to have entrance into her home, and while Caroline stays there, she’s going to stick with that. It’s probably not what Elena had in mind, but it will have to do.

Stefan appears in Bonnie’s driveway and makes his way over to the porch. She’s occupied the swing and Rumsfeld is keeping guard at her feet. She’s surprised to find Stefan alone and thinks that Damon must have been out of the house when she called. She doubts Damon would miss an opportunity to goad her or Dean. Especially Dean.

She watches with a hint of amusement as he takes his time approaching her. He’s deliberately going slow, trying to keep things as human as possible. She wonders if it’s for her benefit or for the neighbours. She brushes away the thought, determined not to start this on a bad foot. She needs to be more civilized in her thoughts towards Stefan; they need to work together.

“Hi,” he begins, standing awkwardly in front of her. Rumsfeld lifts his head at the sound of his voice and gives the vampire a half-hearted growl. Caroline smiles at his laziness. What a guard dog.

“Hi,” she returns as her stomach starts to roll. She’s nervous, he can tell, but she’s got enough nerve for this. Caroline scoots over to one side of the porch and pats the seat next to her. “Sit down.”

He raises one eyebrow, but moves forward to take the seat. He goes even slower than before, like he’s giving her time to change her mind. She appreciates the gesture, but she doesn’t have time for it. She grabs his hands and pulls him into his seat. They both know he could resist her with little effort, but he lets her do it. His surprise is more obvious than before and he turns to her with a questioning look on his face. She looks back at him, his face not that far away, and stops herself from leaning as far back as she can. It’s the closest she’s invited him to be since he came to collect her.

She wants to get right into it, but it’s harder than she imagined with him sitting right there. Elena’s not an easy topic, and Caroline’s still not one hundred percent sure it really is Elena. Sure, it’d be nice to take things on faith. But Caroline’s seen what higher powers do when they meddle in human affairs. She’s not so quick to trust anymore and she doesn’t know how to raise this delicately with Stefan. “So, Matt’s hiding at your place?”

Stefan gives her this quirk of the mouth that may have been a smile. There’s something in his eyes that says he knows she’s just stalling, but he plays along. “He’s not hiding.”

Caroline gives him a look of disbelief. “He’s avoiding me. I disgust him that much?”

Stefan shakes his head. “It’s not disgust,” he denies. “It’s something else. I don’t even know if I can say it right, or say it in a way that wouldn’t make you angry.”

“Try me.”

Stefan sighs and turns to face the driveway. “You’re not Caroline anymore, at least not the Caroline that was. I guess a large part of Matt hoped you would come back just like you were before, and maybe things could start over again. The time when you left, that’s when things got rough around here. Matt looked for you for a long time. He thought if we could all just get back together, we would get through the darkness. You became this symbol for him, of the time before things went so horribly wrong. And with Bonnie missing and Elena dead, seeing you so different-he’s just disappointed.”

“I didn’t become like this on purpose,” she argues. “I had to in order to survive. You have no idea of the things that I’ve seen.”

“I’m not blaming you, Caroline,” Stefan glances at her and gives a small smile. “And Matt’s not really blaming you either. It’s just that things were better before you left. And now that you’re back, and so different, it’s thrown away all hopes of going back to that. That’s what he’s angry about.”

Stefan was right; there isn’t a way of explaining that without making her angry. She supposes it’s her fault for chickening out and bringing up Matt in the first place. She’s known since last night that whatever Matt thought about her, it wouldn’t be nice. Caroline fumes for a second, unable to stomach the idea that Matt hung a bunch of unrealistic hopes on her head. She doesn’t want that kind of responsibility; she knows what it leads to.

“I didn’t call you to talk about Matt,” she finally admits uncomfortably.

“I know,” Stefan says neutrally, leaning against the back of the swing and kicking off gently with his feet. They sway back and forth for a bit, Stefan giving her enough time to gather the courage to do this.

She can think of no better way than her usual way-bluntly. “I’ve been dreaming of Elena.”

He pauses, holds inhumanly still for a few seconds, and then nods. “It’s not unusual after hearing about what happened.”

Caroline takes a deep breath and dives in headfirst. “I’ve been dreaming about Elena for months before you showed up on my doorstep. With what you told me, I think I’ve been dreaming about her since she died.”

He stills again, but doesn’t shake out of it this time. He’s looking at her with unseeing eyes, a face that looks like it’s been carved out of stone. Caroline licks her lips nervously and shuts her eyes, not brave enough to look him in the face while she confesses. “I ignored them at first. I could never remember much about what happened in the dreams, only that Elena was there every time. She kept begging me for something, to help her somehow. I ignored her and the dreams because I was still mad at her for . . . a lot of things, really. And I kept ignoring her until one night, I got up out of my bed and wrote ‘covenant’ across my bathroom mirror in blood red lipstick-and then couldn’t remember doing it.”

She stops there and gives him a minute to catch up. His face is still expressionless but there’s a light back in his eyes. She presses on, holding his gaze with her own. “Stefan, do you know what she means by it?”

Stefan blinks and very slowly begins to move again. The muscle in his jaw is twitching and he leans forward with his elbows on his knees, chin in hand. “Covenant? No, I’m afraid it doesn’t ring any bells. She never talked to me about it.”

Caroline nods and they fall silent again. Rumsfeld sneezes once at their feet and Caroline looks to him in order to avoid looking at Stefan again. “I think it has something to do with the Founders,” she says after a lengthy pause. “It’s all jumbled up with them anyhow. Why Katherine came here, how the Founders knew the vampires were here, and how they’ve managed to keep the town safe with such a large mystical hotspot within its borders. Stefan, ley lines aren’t little things. Sure there are literally thousands of them crisscrossing the globe, but they hardly ever touch. Only occasionally have two ley lines crossed, and as a result, supernatural creatures are drawn there like teenage girls to a Justin Bieber concert. Mystic Falls doesn’t have two crossing lines; it has three.”

“Three?” Stefan repeats, giving Caroline a hard look. “Are you sure? Bonnie never said-“

“I think there’s a lot Bonnie never said,” Caroline interrupts. “And yeah, I’m sure. Before I left South Dakota, I went over the information Uncle Bobby gathered for Bonnie last year. Three ley lines are practically unheard of, but Mystic Falls has three. I don’t know how this was kept a secret or why we don’t have every type of demon, witch, and otherwise terrorizing the town. We should have them here. I think the covenant has something to do with it. Do you know what it means?”

Stefan shrugs. “It’s an agreement, between two parties.”

“Yeah, but it also means ‘contract with God’,” Caroline bites her lip and looks back down at Rumsfeld. “And considering everything that’s happened in the last two years, I think we need to take that literally.”

Stefan shifts in his seat, turning so he’s sitting on the swing sideways and looking directly at her profile. “You think the Founders made a contract with God to keep the town safe?”

“I think something’s not right here and divine meddling is not looking like a bad explanation,” Caroline turns so she’s facing him. “I know it sounds crazy, but you’ve met angels, Stefan. You know He’s out there. Maybe He likes making deals as much as His Fallen Son.”

She never thought it possible, but Stefan’s pale skin goes even paler. She watches quietly as he nervously fiddles with the ring on his left hand, one with a large blue stone that looks a lot like Damon’s ring. She wonders if it’s a family crest, and then dismisses the idea as unimportant. Katherine probably didn’t care much about family crests and whatnot when she had those rings made for the brothers.

“I’ve read my father’s journals obsessively for years,” Stefan starts off saying. “And I’ve never come across a reference to a ‘covenant’ with anyone. But he always knew that we would be back. I wouldn’t think it impossible for him to leave any information regarding that out deliberately.”

“But what about the other Founders?” Caroline asks, brushing off the awkward feeling she has at discussing Stefan’s father. It just serves to remind her how old Stefan and Damon really are, and that’s an unsettling thought. “Maybe one of them mentioned it in their journals? They all kept written records. Maybe it’s in someone else’s.”

Stefan shakes his head. “Jonathan Gilbert’s journal is gone. We never recovered it from Anna. There’s still Honoria Fell and George Lockwood. And of course . . .”

Caroline holds up a set of keys that Carol Lockwood dropped off that morning at her request. “Sheriff William Forbes,” she continues for him. “I know where my mom kept his diaries. I’ll need your help getting them. I’ll lock up the house and grab Rumsfeld’s leash. It’s time for his walk anyway.”

Stefan nods and laughs. “Well, you’re still a take-charge kind of girl.”

Caroline rolls her eyes and gets up off the swing. “Yeah, at least I’m not bossing you around from the great beyond.”

 

~*~


	6. Part Six

Her house is still the same. Carol assured her that the place has been maintained in her absence, and Caroline now knows she meant that literally. She enters through the front door after spending a good ten minutes just staring up at the house. Stefan had waited patiently and he follows now, not needing an invitation to get him through the door. She swallows the tears threatening in her eyes and turns around to pin him with a glare. It’s easier to focus on him and Rumsfeld beside him.

“When did you get an invite?” she asks suspiciously.

He blinks at her, confused. “You gave me one,” he answers. “When Logan Fell took you, I brought you home and you invited me in so I could help you up the stairs.”

Oh yeah. Caroline frowns and tries to chase down that memory. It’s hazy, and not because of compulsion. Logan hit her hard on the head and the head trauma made it difficult to recall things clearly. She thinks she remembers Stefan carrying her bridal style out of a car and up her front steps. She has hazy images of stumbling through the front door and then trying for the staircase. Beyond that, she remembers being put into bed and then nothing.

“Seriously, Elena gets all the vampires looking for love and I get all the ones looking for bait?” Caroline wrinkles her nose in distaste. “I swear, I suck at picking the good ones.”

Stefan laughs. “Matt wasn’t so bad.”

Caroline sighs and nods her assent. Matt hadn’t been a bad choice as a boyfriend. Aside from being totally in love with her best friend, Matt wasn’t a bad boyfriend. Of course, he wasn’t a great boyfriend. She doesn’t think she’s ever had a great boyfriend. Ray Hernandez in tenth grade wasn’t so bad-though he did try to get into her pants on their first date, before they had even made it to the movie theatre.

She can’t really avoid looking at the house now. She turns around slowly, her fingers twitching just a bit. Her eyes sweep over yellow walls, dark banisters, and silver picture frames. She remembers a childhood here, when she was still a pink princess and her parents were still together. She can recall a few times that her parents were actually happy together-holding hands and kissing. She remembers having Bonnie and Elena over, running circles around the living room as they pretended to be ballerinas, superheroes, and whatever else they could imagine.

“Caroline?”

“I, uh-“ Caroline stops and brings a hand to her forehead. “Um, it’s just-“

“A bit emotional? Need a hug?”

She should be used to Damon doing this by now. She knows he’s an egotistical bastard who gets off on scaring other people. But she can’t handle it right now. She can’t take his unannounced appearance in a house that she used to love, but now hates because of him-because of what he did to her upstairs. She can’t just jump and shout and then pull a gun or whatever would pass as normal for them now. It’s not acceptable here, now.

She spins on her heel, hands reaching for a gun. He’s grinning at her manically from the living room. She’s had it with his grinning, with his twisted games. Stefan’s already stepping forward to scold him, but Damon doesn’t care about what his brother says. He doesn’t care about what anyone says.

“You sick bastard!” The words are out of her mouth before the gun is in her hand. “I get it, okay! You’re strong and you’re fast, and you can get me whenever the mood strikes you. I know! Why the hell do you think I spent five years hiding in South Dakota? Why? I know what you are-I’m afraid of you!”

Stefan’s all wide-eyed concern and sympathy when he heads towards her. “Caroline-“

“No!” she cuts him off, gesturing at Damon with her gun. For his part, Damon has lost his grin the second she started screaming at him. That should have been her cue to stop, but she keeps going. “No! He’s pushing it all the time because he likes it! He likes that I’m scared of him! Well, be happy. I’m not just scared of you-I’m petrified! You’ve been haunting me for five years and I’ve never been free of it! You’re my own personal boogeyman, the monster that I looked for in each shadow and under every bed. You drove me crazy with fear! And then you just show up at my house-my sanctuary from you and your kind-and you drag me back with talk of responsibility and needing my help. So now you can haunt me in person, instead of just in memory. Even in this house-the house where you r-“

Her words stop and the tears are making her vision blurry. She hates that she’s crying, remembers making several vows that she would never cry in front of Damon Salvatore again. She turns around, trying to shield her face. Her nose brushes against cotton and flannel and her arms go around Sam’s waist without pause. He takes the gun from her hand, sliding it back underneath her jacket before embracing her. His arms are tight around her body and she just wants to bury her face in his chest. The tears are still quietly coming; she’d been so close to giving words to what Damon did to her that she feels broken. There’s strength in Sam’s arms, comfort and love, and she’ll take it even though she can’t have it as completely as she used to.

“You need to leave,” she hears Sam growl over her head.

“I didn’t-“

“Damon, just go.”

“You too,” Sam barks at Stefan. “I want you two as far away from her as possible, and it better happen fast.”

She bunches her fists in his shirt and lifts her head to look up at him. He’s gazing at Damon behind her and she knows that there will be violence if both Salvatores don’t listen. But she needs Stefan here, can’t forget why she stepped back into this house in the first place. She tugs on his shirt, eyes watering again when he looks down at her with those eyes. She still loves those eyes, loves every little piece of him, and having him while not really having him is sometimes worse than everything else she’s been through.

“Stefan can stay,” she whispers in a scratchy voice.

He doesn’t like it, she sees it in the fire in his eyes, but he relents without argument. She rests her head against his chest, listening to the rustling noise from behind her. Finally, she hears the door open and shut and she lets out a sigh of relief. Sam’s still hugging her close, his lips pressed down against her hair. It’s such a nice feeling that she could probably stay in it for the rest of the day.

She pulls back reluctantly, wiping away a few errant tears. His hand comes up and dries her cheeks with his palms. She bites her lips and looks up at him, feeling longing tighten its hold on her heart. Sam knows, he knows everything about her, and she sees that same longing reflected in his eyes for one second.

It doesn’t make her feel any better.

She turns around before she does something foolish like kiss him, or say ‘I love you’. Stefan’s standing awkwardly by the staircase, eyes on the floor and arms folded across his chest. Caroline’s embarrassed by her outburst, feels even more control slipping through her fingers. She tries to reassemble her calm, tries to remember how she prepared for meeting Stefan this morning. She has to dig deep for some fortitude, uses a lot of strength to stop herself from shaking.

“I’ll take Rumsfeld to the backyard,” Sam murmurs in her ear before whistling for the dog. She watches them go, heading down the corridor to the kitchen. The back door opens and swings shut, the sound bouncing off the walls of the too silent house. Caroline fidgets where she stands, trying to look at Stefan without making it seem like she’s staring.

She clears her throat and looks to the living room and the couch Damon vacated. “There’s a safe in my mother’s closet. There are some boxes in there; one should be full of documents and bound journals. I don’t know the combination, but you can-“

“Yeah, I can,” Stefan says. “Are you-“

“I need a minute alone,” she interjects. “If you have any trouble . . .”

“I’ll manage.” This is followed by the sounds of Stefan heading for the second floor. She walks into the living room and settles down on the armchair. She casts a look around the room, taking in the framed photos, the various souvenirs her family had collected on their handful of vacations, and the old fireplace. She used to live here, with her mother and father, and there was love.

Now it’s full of ghosts.

A soft footfall alerts her to his presence. She jerks her head to the left, relaxing when she sees Castiel standing at the corner of the fireplace mantle, gazing intently at a photo of Caroline when she was a baby.

Caroline sighs and lets her head fall back onto the armchair. “Alone means by myself, Cas.”

He stops his scrutiny of her baby pictures and looks at her in confusion. “I am aware of what the word means.”

Caroline stares at him, waiting for him to clue in to why she was telling him this. He doesn’t, just goes back to looking at her baby photos. She watches him incredulously, unsure of how he manages to pass for normal when he doesn’t understand the littlest things. And then, begrudgingly, a smile crosses her face and she gives a little laugh.

He turns at the sound. “It is nice to see you smile, properly,” Castiel informs her as he walks over to her. “It is even nicer to know that I am the cause of it. You’ve been very upset with me this past year.”

The good humour leaves her instantly and she looks up at him blankly. “I don’t know what to say to that, Cas. You know what the problem is.”

“I know what you say the problem is,” Cas corrects her. “But I have come to know when you are being less than truthful, even when you are untruthful to yourself.”

She’s got a lot to say on the issue of truth, especially in regards to him, but she keeps it to herself. She’s not in the mood for more arguments. Caroline turns her head away and closes her eyes, faking a sleepy disposition. “What does ‘covenant’ mean, Cas?”

She feels his hand on her face, brushing hair behind her ear. She opens her eyes and looks at him, looks at the neutral expression on his face and the blue eyes that hold so many secrets. He stops moving her hair, settling his hand on her shoulder instead. “I love you dearly, Caroline. The same as I love Dean and Sam and Bobby. It’s odd for an angel to have this connection to mortals. Our existences are meant to be lived separately. But we have been through too much together to let our differences break the bonds we forged. You are angry with me because you feel cheated, and I understand how that is. But believe me when I say that my love for you is as true as His love is for you. He is our Father, and we are all His children. And though we may feel doubt and anger towards Him, He never feels the same about us. I wish I could make you understand the truth in this.”

“I’m not ready for God,” Caroline whispers softly. “I’ve got too much anger and fear to let Him in, especially with what He put us through. You can argue different if you like Castiel, but I can’t help the way I feel. Tell me about ‘covenant’.”

Castiel smiles at her faintly. “You really think I can answer that?”

“I was hoping against hope.”

“Some things have to be learned, Caroline,” he pauses and stares at her. “And some things have to be un-learned.”

Caroline rolls her eyes. “You and Dean should make a schedule,” she says sourly. “Coordinate it so that at any given hour of the day, one of you is lecturing me on how to live my life.”

“We would have nothing to lecture about if only you would live it,” Castiel gets to his feet and resumes his tour of the living room. “Look at this house. It’s yours, the whole thing belongs to you. But you won’t look at it because it reminds you of darker times, of things that can’t be changed. You don’t realize that your denial of this house doesn’t make it any less yours. These walls, these objects, the earth underneath it-it all belongs to you. It is your birthright and your responsibility. This is where your family comes from.”

Caroline shakes her head. “My family’s dead, Cas.”

The angel turns and pins her with heated blue eyes. “Only if you let them be, Caroline.”

~*~

_It’s been three years and nine months since Founders’ Day and Caroline doesn’t have it in her to destroy her uncle so completely._

_Aunt Karen was a lovely woman, but Caroline has only vague memories of her. Most of what Caroline knows had been told to her by her mother, accompanied with pictures of the two sisters growing up. She knows what Aunt Karen looks like, knows that people loved her, and knows that Aunt Karen is dead. So Aunt Karen shouldn’t be puttering around Uncle Bobby’s kitchen, baking pies._

_Caroline knows that it’s wrong; she knows that it can’t be good. But Uncle Bobby has never begged her for anything, and she loves him too much to do this to him. So she puts down the phone, promises not to tell the Winchesters, and sits down to dinner with her paralyzed uncle and dead aunt._

_“You know, you’re a lot like your mom.”_

_Caroline arches an eyebrow at her aunt, trying hard not to flinch at the unnatural paleness of Karen’s skin. Her aunt’s corpse has a small smile for her before she returns to rolling out dough for more apple pies. “You really are,” Karen continues to say. “Lizzie was always the same way. Fierce, thoughtful, and loyal. You wouldn’t believe the fights she used to get into on my behalf. It always made me feel guilty to see her in trouble for defending me, but I could never stay out of trouble for longer than a week a time. But she never complained; I was her sister.”_

_Caroline nods. “You were.”_

_Karen stills, not missing the emphasis Caroline places on the word ‘were’. She looks up from her baking, a warm light in her eyes. “You’ve been an angel to Bobby,” Karen says. “I know he’s spent his life obsessed with what happened to me and our-“_

_Karen doesn’t finish her sentence, but returns to her baking with renewed gusto. Caroline tilts her head and looks at her dead aunt speculatively. “Do you remember what happened?”_

_Karen goes still once more. When she speaks again, her voice is low and breathless, like she can barely force the words out of her mouth. “Yes, I do. I remember a lot.”_

_Karen leaves it there and Caroline lets her. No one understands nightmares better than Caroline Forbes. She shifts uncomfortably in her chair, wishing her dead aunt would do something other than bake. If Caroline’s going to be watching her so closely, the corpse could at least vary her routine to make things interesting._

_“Do you know why your mother was the way she was?”_

_The question is unexpected and Caroline’s tempted to ask for an explanation. Her mother was a lot of things and Caroline never really understood any of it. Karen glances up from her pie and gives Caroline another small smile. “It was your grandfather’s fault,” Karen explains cheerfully. “Daddy didn’t know what to do with two girls. It just wasn’t something that was done, not in our family. Do you know? Forbes woman are a very rare breed of creature. Heck, ever since Mystic Falls was founded, the Forbes family has been a one-child kind of family. And that child was always a boy-a boy who always became the town’s sheriff. I thought that kind of grooming and tradition was useless and backwards. Your mother loved it; said it made us a part of something bigger. But our Daddy didn’t want us to be a part of anything. He wanted his boy, wanted it so bad that when your mother was born, he became the first Forbes man in over a century who tried for a second child. Of course, he only ended up with another girl, so you can imagine his disappointment.”_

_Caroline finds this fascinating. Her mother never talked of Thomas Forbes in any way. Caroline only knew of him from what older townspeople would say about him. They said he was a great sheriff, a man totally dedicated to honour and justice. Caroline always found it odd that her mother wouldn’t even talk of the man that everyone else always praised. But she’s starting to see the reason why. “Did Grandpa actually say this to your face?”_

_Karen shrugs, but Caroline sees the forced effort behind it. “Not to us; he said it to our mother plenty. He wanted to try for a third child, anything to get him that son, but our mother never carried another child properly to term. I think there was even a time, when your mother was about ten and I was eight, that the Sheriff was considering taking up with another woman. He just wanted that son so bad. He said it was because he needed someone to take up for him when he was gone, to protect the town as he and his fathers had done before him. He didn’t think a girl could do the job properly. Lizzie was determined to prove him wrong. She turned her back on ‘girlie’ things and dove right into it. She became Sheriff through sheer determination and the other Founders’ dedication to tradition. Your grandfather fought it every step-said he didn’t want some girl mucking up the family’s reputation. He was never proud of her, or if he was, he never bothered to show it. It made Lizzie hard, and it made me hate him. I wish I could have understood then.”_

_Caroline blinks and frowns. “Understand what?”_

_Karen sighs, wiping an arm across her forehead to clear away the sweat. It’s weird watching her sweat; dead people shouldn’t be producing anything through their sweat glands. Dead people also shouldn’t be walking around, talking, and baking pies._

_“I wish I could have understood that when life turns on you, it’s hard not to take it badly,” Karen shakes her head a bit, smiling faintly at some distant memory that Caroline isn’t privy to. “I wish I understood that it’s hard being a Forbes, because you are so tied to that town that it won’t release you, even after death. I wish I knew how the safety and protection of one town was more important than the feelings of your own children.”_

_Karen focuses her eyes back on Caroline and her smile widens a bit. “And I want to explain to you why a Forbes and Mystic Falls can’t be parted, but you’re not ready for it. You’ve been through too many things; your life has been so different from your mother’s, that I don’t think you can understand it now. But I wish you could have seen your mother as a girl. I’d think you’d have a better connection to who she was, and who you are as a result. It’s easy to say your last name is Forbes; it’s harder to know why it means so much.”_

_Caroline sighs and taps her fingers against the kitchen table. Her fingertips brush up against the fully loaded shotgun that she’s been carrying around with her ever since Karen showed up. Caroline’s willing to do this for her uncle, but she’s not completely stupid. Dead people aren’t the friendliest, no matter what form they first show up wearing._

_“I wish I had known you before,” Caroline admits after a long pause. “I wish that your child and I could have played together.”_

_Karen smiles, dead eyes watering with tears that she shouldn’t be able to make. “I wish for that too.”_

_Five days later, when Aunt Karen is turning and Dean is speaking hard truths, Caroline kneels down in front of her uncle and tries to take his shotgun from him. “I can do this for you, Uncle Bobby.”_

_Uncle Bobby looks at her, tears pooling in his eyes, and he smiles. “I know you can, darling,” he says in a voice heavy with sorrow. “I know you can. But I can’t let you. You’ve been through a lot, but your heart is still whole and beating. This would kill a part of it.”_

_Caroline’s grip is firm on the gun. “I can give up a part for you.”_

_“Can’t let you,” Uncle Bobby puts a hand over hers and squeezes. “Things are only going to get worse from here on out. You hang onto what you can, because some of it is going to be lost. Start now and there might not be anything left once this is over.”_

_The tears start flowing and she grips the gun tighter. “What about you? You’ll need all the parts you can keep as well.”_

_Uncle Bobby laughs, and it’s bitter and cold. “My heart shrivelled up and died when I did this the first time. I’ve got nothing left in there but you three, Caroline. You need to stay whole, darling; it’s the only thing that keeps this old man going.”_

_Three years and nine months after Founders’ Day, Dean Winchester holds Caroline as she listens to the gunshot that ends her Aunt Karen, for the second time._

~*~

_**. . . Honoria is adamant, and she is starting to sway the others. They don’t understand the danger of it. They just want to believe. But faith can be fatal when it is misdirected. And I have seen too many demons to trust so completely . . .**_

_**. . . The dreams come, but I cannot get a handle on the message. It is the same with Jonathan, though he thinks the witch has cursed him. He says he sees the darkest of things in his mind’s eye, and I can see it in the way he moves. Every step, every gesture-it is faltering and uncertain. He is not the same man we once knew. His fear and his bitterness are catching up to him. The dreams do not make anything better . . .** _

_**. . . A stranger has come today. I have no patience for strangers any more . . .** _

_**. . . The stranger speaks of impossible things. Honoria will not listen to reason, but only to him. I have seen the same things she has seen, but I am still wary. He promises too much; he may yet be the devil in disguise. I am too used to seeing monsters to see anything else . . .** _

_**. . . What will become of this town? Of my family and my friends? Should I abandon them, because I am too scared to trust? He asks for one little thing, but it seems too big for myself to accomplish. But it must be five; he asks for at least five . . .** _

_**. . . It is all too simple. A little faith, and there is salvation. What choice do I have but to try? It is just a little thing . . .**_

A loud bang snaps her out of her thoughts, the shaking and tinkling of cutlery and dishware jarring compared to the silence that came before. Caroline spots the culprit, a very large bundle of old, leather bound books, and then looks up to see who tossed them so emphatically on the table.

“I know way more about this town than I want to,” Dean complains as he throws himself into a seat with the same force he threw the books on the table. The table shakes as his legs hit it from underneath and Caroline has to smile sweetly at the waitress to avert a public dressing down. “And seriously, why do we have to keep coming to this joint? It’s got poor lighting and it’s full of people I don’t like, and they only have two kinds of pie.”

Caroline rolls her eyes as Dean lists all the shortcomings of the Mystic Grill and then addresses each of them in turn. “We come here because there really isn’t any other place to come in Mystic Falls. The lighting is not poor; it’s dim because that’s the atmosphere they’re trying for. Those people would like you if you stopped glaring at them all the time. And there’s nothing I can do about the lack of pie-variety, but at least the pies they do have taste good. Anything else you want to whine about today?”

Dean slams a hand on the journals and Caroline swallows the urge to tell him to go easy on the historical records. “I hate reading these things,” Dean growls at her. “Any relevant information is rare and infrequent. I spend most of my time reading about Honoria’s hate for the new style of dresses all the young girls are wearing. Apparently the slightly lower neckline was too wanton for her taste. And I don’t give two shits about it.”

“You know, you could go easier on the things,” Caroline muses, avoiding the issue of the journals’ content. “I mean, it took a lot to convince Tina to dig those up for us, and she might want them back in good condition. They are family heirlooms, in a way.”

“That girl wouldn’t care if I set fire to the things,” Dean responds dismissively. “She’s too wired to care about anything. Of course, her family is either dead or hiding in Europe. I can’t believe her aunt and uncle left her here while they fled to safety.”

Caroline just shrugs. “The Fells aren’t exactly known for their close family bonds. They barely blinked when Logan went mental and tried to kill me. Didn’t even keep a tab on the police investigation.”

“That’s not right,” Dean declares with a disappointed shake of his head. “You shouldn’t do that with family.”

“Lecture them when this is over,” Caroline replies, turning her eyes back to William Forbes’s journals. “I’ve got stuff to do.”

“Caroline, you’ve read those things a hundred times in the last four days,” Dean reminds her. “I don’t think you’ve missed anything. Your great-great-whatever grandpa didn’t write down the ritual. Neither did Honoria and neither George Lockwood. All that’s in these books is mentions of it, The Stranger, and the happy-go-lucky times that followed it.”

“And all we know is that it gives protection,” Caroline finishes for him. “Protects the ley lines from being abused by anyone, even those from Above or Below. And if the Founders adhere to the rules of the covenant, the Lord will keep the land protected. And the only rule that I’ve dug up is the continued presence of the Founding Families.”

“And Honoria doesn’t say anything about the conditions of the Deal,” Dean grumbles, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I hate to ask this, but have you considered coordinating with the vampire?”

Caroline feels her lips twitch. “You want me to talk to Stefan?”

“Well, he’s got his dad’s journals, right? So maybe if we make a list and cross-reference or some egghead bullshit, we’ll find something.”

Caroline stops smiling and narrows her eyes. “You want to work with Stefan?”

Dean rolls his eyes at her suspicious tone. “He’s not that bad, for a vampire. And he’s been doing an okay job of keeping his brother away. From you, at least.”

“Damon wouldn’t bother you so much if you didn’t bait him.”

Dean looks offended. “I never bait him.”

Caroline folds her arms across her chest and glares at him. “You asked him if the reason why he liked date-raping girls was because his daddy didn’t love him.”

Dean waves this off. “That wasn’t baiting. I was just asking about his hobbies.”

Caroline softens her gaze and shakes her head. “You’re trying to pick a fight. Stop it.”

Dean sets his jaw and avoids her eyes. “He hurt you. You’re my family. I get to kill him.”

Caroline sighs again. “Does it ever occur to you that it’s a two way street?”

Dean frowns and looks lost. “Huh?”

“I’m your family,” she repeats, looking at him sternly. “If I’m your family, then you’re mine. And we’re the only ones left. All you got is me and all I got is you, so how do you think I feel when you do things that could get you killed?”

He’s back to avoiding her eyes. “I could take him.”

She sees red. “Dean, don’t get cocky. Every time you leave for a hunt, you’re the same damn way. It frustrates me because you don’t acknowledge that you might not come home. Uncle Bobby was the same way-and then he didn’t come home one day. He was dead for a whole day before I knew about it, and I’m afraid that it’s going to be the same way with you. So if you love me so much, why can’t you do this one thing for me and just stop it already!”

Dean’s gone wide-eyed and she knows he’s trying to hold back his emotions. “Caroline, I-“

“I don’t want to hear it,” she cuts him off, standing up from the table and throwing her napkin down on her plate. “I’m going to the washroom. Order me some pie and get your shit together before I get back out here. I’m tired of having the same argument with you every day.”

She turns and stalks off before he can reply. She heads down the corridor and pushes her way into the women’s washroom. She paces in the small space, clenching and unclenching her fists as she tries to get her breathing back under control. It takes a few minutes, but after a few breaths she’s starting to calm down. She feels bad for blowing up at Dean, but she won’t deny anything she said. Dean worries her, almost all the time these days, and sometimes she thinks he doesn’t realize how much that affects her.

She turns to the sinks, gazing at her reflection in the mirror. Four days of reading and rereading the same material and coming up with nothing is wrecking her. Her eyes are red and the bags underneath them are nearly black. Her hair’s pulled back in the messiest ponytail she’s ever seen and her face is pinched and narrow. Jeremy keeps making fun of her appearance, even bringing visual aids once to emphasis his point with Dean. The reminders of who she used to be and the sight of how she is now just drives home the length of time she’s been away. Dean barely recognized her in her cheerleader outfit, though his eyebrows did go high and she caught him muttering something about Sam being an ‘ungrateful idiot’. It had made her smile, right up into the point where Dean suggested she model her old uniform for him and waggled his eyebrows so suggestively that Matt stomped out of the room.

She loves him, but Dean’s the biggest asshat some days.

Caroline shakes her head and looks down. She fiddles with the taps, letting out a stream of cold water. She cups her hands, gathers a bit of liquid, and bends down to throw it onto her face. The chill of the water jolts her and wakes her a bit. She turns off the tap and runs her hands over her face, wiping away the excess water. She’s wiping her chin when she straightens up, catching a glimpse of another person in the mirror before spinning on her heels to face the stranger.

But the other woman is faster. Caroline’s barely turned around when her assailant pushes her back and slams her against the wall. There’s a hand gripping her throat tightly and Caroline’s vision swims for a moment before she is able to focus on the face of Elena’s birth mother.

“Hello Yappy,” Isobel greets her, a cold smile stretching across her face as she steps in close, pressing her body against Caroline’s. “How was your vacation?”

“Fine,” Caroline rasps. “Took in some sights, picked up bits of a few languages, and learned how to kill vampires.”

Isobel pauses and looks down, her hold on Caroline’s neck loosening a bit. Caroline pushes the gun in her hand out and into Isobel’s ribs. “Don’t move,” she warns the vampire. “The trigger’s already half pulled and no vampire’s that fast. It’s also aimed directly at your heart, so unless you want vervain in every inch of that part of you, I suggest you act smart.”

Isobel’s mouth is parted and then she throws back her head and laughs. “Wow! Yappy, you have changed! You’re all bad-ass. It’s kind of hot.”

“And you’re all reckless,” Caroline gives the vampire an appraising look. “Half the town is looking for you and they’re practically armed to the teeth. What the hell are you doing in the Mystic Grill? You want to die before you can even try to wake Lilitu from his Hell Pit?”

“I see someone’s done her homework,” Isobel sounds impressed. “I like this new you, Yappy. Not as tedious as when we last met.”

Caroline rolls her eyes, trying to glance towards the door discreetly. They aren’t making that much noise, but Dean would start to wonder what was taking her so long pretty soon. She just hopes that it would be soon enough. “Don’t waste my time with insincere flattery, Isobel. Where’s Bonnie?”

Isobel smiles sweetly and Caroline wants to shudder at the emptiness in her eyes. “Bonnie’s fine. We’ve been having a blast together. But she’s starting to feel a little homesick, I think.”

“I want Bonnie.”

“Excellent! Because I want something from you,” Isobel leans in closer, stopping only when Caroline jabs the gun into her ribs again. “Fine, be that way. But it doesn’t change things. I knew the second you were back in this town, Yappy. And I’ve been biding my time, waiting for the right time to talk to you. We have lots to discuss.”

Caroline fixes her eyes into a deathly glare. “What do you want?”

Isobel smiles again and this time Caroline sees a flash of fang. She tightens her grip on her gun and forces down any trepidation that tries to make its way into her brain. “Yappy, I’m here to make you a deal. And let me tell you, you’re going to want to hear me out. I’m prepared to make a concession, if you will. And I think you know what I mean.”

Caroline grits her teeth. “Talk.”

Isobel laughs lightly and then begins.

~*~

It’s almost dark by the time she and Dean get back to Bonnie’s house. Their moods have not improved since their slight disagreement before. And Caroline’s further distracted by her encounter with Isobel and her guilt for not telling Dean about it.

She leads him up the front steps, mind preoccupied with thoughts of Bonnie, Elena, and Isobel. She’s so engrossed in her thoughts that she doesn’t register the tense atmosphere she enters. She walks by the family room, intent on heading for the kitchen, when the sound of Dean’s voice drags her back. “So the gang’s all here? This should be fun.”

Caroline turns with a frown, walking back down the corridor as she watches Dean step into the family room and out of her line of vision. She moves into the entryway, eyes sliding over the room. She sees Tyler sitting on the floor in front of the television, Rumsfeld next to him with his head on Tyler’s lap. Her dog’s newfound familiarity with Tyler unnerves her a bit, and she can’t place her finger on why exactly.

Matt is also in the room, sitting on the armchair with his arms folded across his chest as he glares at the other two occupants of the room. Caroline feels the headache coming on as she takes in Sam’s angry posture and Castiel’s curious expression. Dean’s not making anything better by sidling up alongside Sam and whispering something in the angel’s ear while obviously pointing to Matt.

“Hey Caroline,” Tyler calls from his spot on the floor, not tearing his eyes away from whatever sports event he’s watching. “Your ex-boyfriend and his ambiguously gay partner are here.”

Matt laughs loudly and Caroline feels like ripping her hair out. “Can we pretend like we’re all adults. Please?”

“We just came to see how things were going,” Sam says, the first to comply with her demand. She gives him a small smile, not missing the way he turns his back on Matt completely to talk to her.

“They’re going fine,” Matt replies stonily.

“They appear to be going badly,” Castiel corrects him. “Your research is not going as well as Caroline would like.”

“It’d go better if you just told me the answers,” Caroline interjects, and then puts up a hand to stop him from speaking. “I know, some things need to be learned. I’m trying, Cas.”

“You should try harder,” Castiel suggests. She doesn’t want to scream, but it might come down to that.

“We’ll do our best,” Dean intervenes before she can blow her top. “But let’s move onto something you can do. Why don’t you tell us what Glinda the screw-up witch did when she ripped apart the older crazy vampire?”

This immediately stops whatever’s been building between Matt and Sam because now everyone’s got their eyes on Castiel. Caroline smiles faintly and then nods. “I think I agree with Dean. Come on Cas; share with the class.”

Castiel frowns and looks about him. “We’re in a house,” he tells her.

“And you’re sidestepping the question,” Dean throws himself onto the nearest couch and gives Cas the stink eye. “Cas, I’ve been reading an old lady’s diary for the past four days and it was actually worse than Samantha’s ‘dear diary’ phase. Don’t mess with me. Just tell us.”

Sam rolls his eyes. “Jerk,” he mutters under his breath.

“Bitch,” Dean returns easily and Caroline’s heart dips a bit because it’s so much like the old days.

“Listen, Angel dude, you need to share with us,” Tyler switches off the television and turns so he’s facing the others. “If you want us to stop the rising of the Vampire King, then you should let us know what Bonnie did, and what she was going to do.”

“I’m not psychic,” Castiel replies stoically. “I don’t know exactly what Bonnie was planning. I do know what she did do, and it’s bad.”

Caroline takes a seat next to Dean and wipes everything else from her mind. “What was it, Cas?”

“I was not here when Katherine Pierce attempted to raise Lilitu from Hell,” Castiel starts off explaining. “We were otherwise occupied, as you two remember. But Heaven was keeping an eye on this place because of the ley lines. They sent Kushiel here, with some others, to alert the humans of the danger and to remind them of their responsibility.”

“Or, tell us what to do, or they would raze the town to the ground,” Tyler interrupts for a second, his dark eyes flashing dangerously. “Let’s not sugar coat it, dude.”

Castiel spares the young man a look and when he gazes back at her, Caroline knows he’s uncomfortable. Cas clears his throat and starts again. “Along with Kushiel, there was an angel named Pahaliah. He was a guardian angel, one of those bestowed the honour of granting wisdom and knowledge.”

“’Was’?” Dean repeats, an eyebrow arched high.

Sam coughs nervously. “Pahaliah came here with the original contingent, and he stayed behind to watch over the situation. He never returned to Heaven.”

“Well, he’s not here anymore,” Matt says quickly, a strange look passing over his features before he manages to force a nonchalant expression. Caroline glances at him curiously, eyes sliding to Tyler next. Tyler looks as confused as she is with Matt’s outburst.

“We know he’s not here,” Castiel replies, his voice taking on a harder edge. “He’s not here, he’s not in Heaven-he isn’t anywhere. When Bonnie killed Katherine Pierce, she did something to Pahaliah that ripped his existence from this world.”

Caroline knows her mouth is hanging open, but she can’t shut it. It’s just too unbelievable.

“Bonnie killed an angel?” Matt is the first to speak and he’s very pale at this point. “She wouldn’t do that. You’re wrong.”

“She didn’t kill him, not really,” Sam scratches his head, searching for the way to explain. “Pahaliah was here, in town, when the first battle took place at Willow Creek. He couldn’t go to Willow Creek, because those are the terms of the covenant. Neither Angel nor Demon is allowed to step foot in Willow Creek; the whole place is warded against them. Only humans and earth-bound creatures can go there. While Bonnie was there, she drew on Pahaliah’s power. She invoked him, called his power to her, and used it against Katherine. It wasn’t all her that day; some of it was power borrowed from Heaven.”

The silence is heavy and Caroline isn’t sure what she’s supposed to do. Sam is looking at her with this pained expression, but her mind can’t catch up because she’s still stuck on the idea of Bonnie draining an angel like some sort of magical battery. It doesn’t seem possible-how could it be possible? Bonnie is a powerful witch, but she’s not so powerful that she could take on the Host of Heaven. No human should be able to do that.

“That kind of makes sense,” Tyler mutters suddenly. All eyes fall on him and he looks to Matt, a look of wonder on his face. “Remember what she did? The way it all went down? Hell, I thought it was raining fire for a couple of minutes. It was insane-hot, fiery, and scary as hell. And she-well, you should have seen her. Mouth wide, screaming like she was being gutted, and her eyes-I couldn’t see her eyes. There was just fire everywhere.”

“Hold on for a second,” Dean stands up and points an angry finger at Sam. “That’s bullshit! Glinda couldn’t have up and drained an angel like that. I don’t like her, but she’s not a bad witch. She’s human, and she couldn’t just do that to a freaking angel. The only person I’ve ever met that could have power over a demon or an angel is someone who had some demon blood in them. I could see Jesse being able to do that, but Bonnie? It doesn’t make sense.”

“What aren’t you telling us?” Caroline picks up for Dean. “Dean’s not wrong. There’s something else here. How did Bonnie manage to do that to an angel who was miles away from her? She didn’t tap into the ley lines; those are protected by the covenant. Bonnie can’t break the protection of Heaven. So, I ask again, what aren’t you telling us?”

Castiel turns and looks directly at Matt. “You should ask Matthew.”

Matt’s like a deer caught in the headlights. He straightens, his eyes widen, and then he’s looking around for an escape. Tyler gets to his feet the same time Caroline gets to hers, and they both crowd in on Matt, forcing him back into the armchair.

“Matt,” Caroline plasters on a sugary smile. “Something to share?”

“I can’t,” Matt says with a shake of his head.

“Please,” Tyler snorts. “You can and you have to. You heard Caroline; we need to know.”

Matt fixes Caroline with a pleading look. “Don’t, Caroline. I promised her. Don’t ask me to break it when you made her keep yours for five years.”

Caroline sucks in a breath and steps back. Matt’s not wrong, and though Tyler’s arguing with him, he’s played this well. She can’t ask him to break a promise sworn to Bonnie; she’s made a great deal of noise about promises and trust since Founders’ Day. She can’t force him without becoming the biggest hypocrite in the world-and betraying Bonnie. Bonnie who never once thought of giving her secret away, not even when Bonnie thought Caroline needed to come back for the safety of the town. Even then, Bonnie planned to come and get Caroline herself. Even then she was keeping her promise to Caroline.

Dean joins Tyler in the argument with Matt and Caroline steps further away from the three men. Sam is sitting on the couch she just vacated. Rumsfeld is right beside him, head in Sam’s lap while the angel pets him. She stares at Sam and he looks back at her with this look that is half sorrow and half shame. She frowns, turns to look at Castiel, and finds him staring at her intently. Her brain starts and sputters. She looks back at Sam in disbelief and he just nods at her unspoken question.

“Stop fighting,” she orders faintly, but the others don’t hear her. “Stop fighting!”

All other noise stops and Caroline turns back around to face Matt. He’s still looking pale and he’s sweating just a bit. She shakes her head, hands going up to pull at her hair. “I can’t believe this,” she says with a brittle laugh, on the verge of tears once more. “It’s like some sort of sick cosmic joke.”

Dean’s in front of her with his hands on her shoulders in no time. “What are you talking about, Caroline?”

Caroline laughs again and then drops her forehead to Dean’s shoulder. “She drank his blood.”

“She what?” This comes from Tyler. Dean moves his hands, pulling Caroline in for a proper hug.

“He offered,” is Matt’s only defence.

Another period of awkward silence and then Tyler breaks in with: “Damon’s going to have a field day.”

Caroline groans and pulls away from Dean. She goes to stand in front of the fireplace, staring at a photo of Bonnie on the mantelpiece. It’s from when she was about seven, and it’s with Grams. The elder Bennett witch has her arms wrapped around her granddaughter and both are smiling brightly for the camera. It makes Caroline smile and yearn for the times when their families were intact, they were just normal girls, and the greatest evil in their lives was cooties.

“So, angel blood works in the same way the demon blood does?” Dean’s asking from behind her. “It jacks up a person with super powers?”

“It forged a connection between Pahalial and Bonnie,” Sam explains. “He lent her extra power and they were able to keep in touch telepathically. Then, at Willow Creek, Bonnie activated their bond and pulled as much power from Pahalial as she could. She withdrew everything and brought it into herself.”

“She’s lucky not to have been burnt alive from the inside out,” Castiel interrupts, his voice still low and angry. “Pahalial was a fool to make such a barter with a human, even if she was a witch. She pulled his existence into herself and now it’s trapped there.”

“That’s why her magic is so off, why she’s been so different since that day,” Sam continues when it’s obvious Cas won’t. “We think whatever is left of Pahalial is stuck inside Bonnie and trying to find a way out.”

“Out?” Matt sounds worried and angry. “How the hell is he going to get out of her?”

“Don’t use that tone on me, boy,” Cas is full of outrage and rebuke. “You should have stopped her. It was a fool’s play. She’s lucky to be alive, and she’s lucky Kushiel didn’t come back for her himself. If we get her back alive-“

“’If’” Tyler repeats unhappily.

“If we get her back alive, we’ll need to get Pahalial out,” Castiel finishes. “There is only one way for him to leave.”

“He needs a vessel,” Sam elaborates. “He’ll need his own body to be able to leave her body. And then we can try to extract him back to Heaven.”

Dean scoffs. “If he’s stuck inside Glinda, how exactly are we supposed to get him to jump into another human body?”

“We can’t,” Castiel replies. “She will have to create a vessel for him.”

“Is he saying-“ Tyler stops and doesn’t continue, as if not giving voice to the thought will have stopped it from existing.

Caroline laughs, but really she wants to scream. “So, we have to save Bonnie from a group of vampires, get her knocked up, and then take her baby away so you can extract some dumb-ass angel from it? Great plan.”

She hears some thumping and crashing. “You’re not touching her!” Matt roars. There are some more scuffling noises and she hears Tyler saying something, no doubt trying to calm his friend down. It doesn’t appear to be working, and Matt’s anger only seems to fuel Castiel’s.

“It would be a small mercy for her!” Cas is nearly shouting. “She’s lucky not to have died when she first did this. But if we leave Pahaliah inside her, there’ll be no saving her.”

“Two entities can’t live in the same body,” Sam explains. “Right now they’re working side by side, but that will change. Pahalial is an Angel of the Lord-he will not fade away. Bonnie will slowly start to lose her mind and then . . . She’ll waste away and then she’ll die.”

There’s more cursing from Tyler and Matt, with Dean adding his two cents occasionally. Caroline just continues to stare at the photo of young Bonnie and Grams, tears sliding down her face silently.

~*~

Caroline’s in a field of grass, a small creek behind her, and fire all around.

“This is not a good idea, Caroline.”

Caroline looks up and sees Elena standing a few feet away. She blinks and realizes that she’s on her knees. Caroline gets to her feet slowly, swiping her palms against her jeans to clear away any dirt. She doesn’t reply to Elena, content to look around her and take in everything.

It’s a battle scene; no, THE battle scene. And it’s frozen. Nothing’s moving, everything and everyone hangs suspended in time. There’s Tyler and Jeremy; Jeremy has a gun in his hand and Tyler is in mid-lunge. His dark eyes are changed to a strange amber colour and his lips are pulled back in a snarl, revealing a set of razor sharp teeth she’s never noticed before. Matt is also there, standing next to the new sheriff as they both point weapons in the direction of a group of vampires.

Her eyes move across the field, to where she sees Damon and Stefan. Damon is standing, looking down at something. Stefan is at his feet, his back against his brother’s legs, and his face pointed towards the sky. She sees a bit of his face, sees the anguish and the mouth open in the midst of what appears to be a heart-wrenching wail. He has something in his arms-no, he has someone in his arms. She can see a set of legs and one bloody arm. She tries to move closer, to see who it is.

“You know who it is,” Elena says, stopping her with a hand on Caroline’s arm. “Caroline, do you really need to see it?”

Caroline blinks and looks down at the hand on her arm. She stares at it in confusion, her mind slowly coming towards the obvious explanation. She looks back at Stefan. “That’s you,” she says in a breathless voice.

“Caroline, forget that, please,” Elena’s begging as she pulls Caroline back. “We need to talk. You can’t-“

“Oh no,” Caroline interrupts her friend as her eyes land on another figure. Caroline’s eyes are wide and she feels her heart hammering in her chest as she stares at Bonnie Bennett. Her best friend, the one person she would face Damon Salvatore for, no longer looks human. Tyler was right; there’s something very scary about Bonnie right now. Bonnie’s got her feet at least three feet off the ground. Her head is thrown back and her mouth open wide. Her hair is flung about her head and her arms are outstretched, hands clenching into something like claws. All around her is fire, coming down from the sky like a waterfall.

“What did she do?” Caroline whispers to herself tearfully.

Elena’s right behind her, arms going around Caroline’s waist as the brunette brings herself flush against Caroline’s back. They stand there, Elena clutching Caroline to her in a backwards hug, for some time. Caroline can only stare at Bonnie in horror, not seeing a trace of her childhood friend in that face of fury and thunder.

“The Host of Heaven cannot step foot onto Willow Creek,” Elena starts murmuring into Caroline’s ear. “It is forbidden; an agreement struck between the Founders and God. Neither Above nor Below will place its foot onto this soil. The Host of Heaven could not come here to fight with them. So Bonnie brought the Host of Heaven here in another way, to smite her enemy. She shouldn’t have done that.”

Caroline leans back into Elena’s embrace. “It’s so much worse than Cas said,” she realizes.

Elena nods and hugs her tighter. “Bonnie broke the protection of Heaven by bringing the power of Heaven here. She violated the terms of the covenant, and set it shaking. Isobel needs to do little more and she’ll have Lilitu walking the Earth once again. And if you think this is bad, wait until you see what happens if the lines are open and the Father of all Vampires walks free again.”

“The town won’t survive,” Caroline mutters. 

“’The town’?” Elena repeats with a short laugh. “Caroline, the entire Eastern seaboard won’t survive. Lilitu has a bloodlust that sometimes puts his mother to shame. Millions will die before the angels are able to contain him. And once the lines are opened, every demon and supernatural creature will descend upon this place. Then the trouble will really begin.”

“Millions dying won’t be trouble?” Caroline asks bitterly.

“Not in comparison,” Elena says, her voice dropping very low. “And that’s why you shouldn’t do it. You don’t know what’s going to happen.”

Caroline shrugs, trapped in her dead friend’s embrace. “It can’t be worse than if I don’t.”

Elena sighs and then sniffles. “You never listen.”

“I listen,” Caroline counters. “I just don’t agree.”

They stand there in silence, Elena sniffling and hugging Caroline while they both stared at the horror all around them. “Dean’s a bad influence, I think.”

Caroline frowns. “And why would you say that?”

“He’s taught you all about self-sacrifice,” Elena says, her voice mournful. “And you learned your lesson well. But he didn’t teach you about the true meaning of sacrifice-and that’s why you’re doing it all wrong.”

“Elena?”

“You should know when it’s time to sacrifice someone else.”

 

~*~


	7. Part Seven

She’s tired. It’s not something new. She’s always tired. She’s been tired since Founders’ Day and it’s only gotten worse over time. It’s like there was some sort of countdown clock started that day and it’s been slowly making its way to zero. She’s been walking around with an expiration date all along and now her time is up. She hasn’t felt this lifeless since she cremated Uncle Bobby.

Two days after Castiel’s revelations about Bonnie and this Pahalial guy and Caroline feels stretched beyond her limits. The time since has been filled with more arguments than she can count and hours of frustration. She knows the Founders entered a covenant with God, she knows it was for the protection of Mystic Falls. She also knows that something has changed and if she just knew more about the Deal then things would start making sense. Even the elder members of the Council are in the dark about the Deal. It seems that the details were lost a long time ago and all that most Council members know is about vampires. Demons, angels, and everything in between is new to them. They’re still playing catch up from their encounter with Kushiel. Most of them spend the day reading and rereading the Bible. She would laugh, if she hadn’t done the exact same thing for two years.

The day of the full moon arrives and she’s still without definite answers. Isobel and Bonnie are always on her mind and her nerves get more and more frazzled as the hours tick by. Everyone else is up to their eyeballs in preparation for tonight. There are more guns at Bonnie’s house than Caroline’s ever seen-even at Uncle Bobby’s. She’s not sure when Bonnie’s house became central command, but everyone’s there nonetheless. Alaric, Jeremy, Tyler, Matt, Dean, Jeffrey, and several other members of the newly expanded Council are all in Bonnie’s living room, loading weapons and talking strategy. The sheriff calls every now and then to coordinate and check details with them. Caroline sits among these men, loading and checking weapons absently. If anyone notices her distraction, they don’t mention it. Dean does give her a couple of worried glances here and there; it’s enough to make guilt come gnawing at her insides.

Stefan shows up with Meredith sometime after noon. He stays on the porch while Meredith stuffs herself onto the loveseat beside Jeremy and commences whispering with him urgently. Caroline wanders outside, not missing Dean’s disapproving look but not caring about it either. “You ready?”

Stefan nods and stares off into the distance. “It’s so unnerving, the hours before a battle.”

She takes in his blank face and relaxed posture and can’t help but giggle. “Yeah, I can see you’re real panicked about it.”

He slides his eyes over to her and a smile threatens in the twitching of his lips. “You’re hilarious, Caroline Forbes. Has anyone ever told you that?”

She rolls her eyes. “People don’t use the word ‘hilarious’. ‘Funny’, ‘bitchy’, and ‘tedious’ have come up, though.”

This makes him laugh. He sobers quickly. “You’re not tedious, Caroline,” he assures her.

“And yet, there’s no defence of the ‘bitchy’,” Caroline smirks at him, leaning against the closed front door. “It’s okay. I appreciate the compliment.”

Stefan smiles. “I’m grateful,” he replies. “But I do have to ask, are you ready?”

Caroline purses her lips and then lies. “Well, it’s not exactly Lucifer, but I’m being cautious anyway. I’ll be ready when the time comes.”

“Did you really face him?” Stefan asks suddenly. “Lucifer, I mean?”

She nods once, grimacing slightly.

“What was he like?”

She thinks of tousled brown hair, blue-green eyes that can make a girl melt, and a sweet smile. Just one glimpse of that smile and she’s lost. It might be for an hour, a day, or just ten seconds-but every time, she’s lost.

“He was awful,” she finally replies. “He was beautiful. I could have loved him-if he wanted me to, I would have loved him. That’s what made him so awful.”

Stefan looks at her thoughtfully. He shifts from one foot to the other, eyes sliding off to the world beyond Bonnie’s porch again. “You and that angel, Sam. It’s none of my business, but-“

“It’s not your business,” Caroline cuts him off. “But, yeah.”

“I thought they couldn’t-“

“They can’t,” she shrugs her shoulders. “Well, they can. There’s no physical reason why they can’t. But it doesn’t last-humans and angel can’t have long-term, or even short-term, relationships. We live in two different worlds.”

Stefan nods and bites his lip. She watches him closely, can almost see the other question on his lips. “So, how-why-“

“He wasn’t always an angel,” she answers as he fumbles. “He was Dean’s brother. But we lost him in the fight with Lucifer. I suppose God or whoever’s in charge up there decided to reward him with wings. Personally, I think they don’t care about rewarding humans. They needed to refill the ranks. They lost more this time than their last fight with Lucifer.”

Stefan looks at her curiously. “Dean gets along with them better than you.”

Caroline smirks again. “Dean’s more forgiving than I am.”

Stefan scoffs, no doubt thinking about the past week of Dean baiting Damon and pulling guns on him whenever the mood struck him (and the mood struck often). “So what? There’s no love lost between you and the angels?”

“No, none,” Caroline shrugs. “I love Cas and Sam as much as I did before. It’s what makes everything that much worse.”

Stefan gives her a hard look. “After Elena died, I thought I would do anything to have her come back to life,” he confesses. “I prayed, because I figured with all these angels around I should get religious. It didn’t work; I wasn’t sure if God wasn’t listening or if He ignores vampires. But I prayed for weeks. I thought I would do anything. If she was brought back and I had to leave her for her own good-I would do it. I thought everything would be better if she was alive-even if I never got to see her again myself, never had the chance to touch her again. I thought I could do it, but it’s not so easy. Is it?”

Caroline’s eyes are getting watery and she turns her eyes away from Stefan. She takes a page out of his book and looks off into the world around them. She gazes hard at the surrounding trees and houses, not really seeing any of it. “When he first came back, I was happy. I can’t describe how happy. But it changed when I understood what it meant. He was dead before, and that hurt. But now he’s back, he’s within reaching distance, but he’s further away than ever. Having him here, getting bits and pieces of him but knowing that I can’t keep him-it’s worse than anything ever. Living without him because he was gone was hard; having to live without him like this is impossible. Why else do you think I’m so angry, Stefan? It’s like God granted my prayers, but only just enough to break me all over again.”

His fingers graze her elbow and he waits. She looks at him, seeing how he’s kept a deliberate distance between them. She sees why Elena loved him so much, loved him enough to put up with Damon and everything else. He isn’t just sweet; he’s noble and kind and there’s something so soulful about him that it’s almost ironic. She remembers the first time she saw him and chased after him. She remembers the sting of his rejection and how it led her to Damon. But she can’t fault him there. Her pursuit of Damon was her own choice; and she was stupid for trying because there never was (and never will be) anyone but Elena for Stefan. It’s so clear to her in that exact moment that she falters, breaks her own rule, and hugs him.

He’s solid to the touch, much more so than Dean or Sam. Her forehead touches the exposed parts of his neck as she leans in close and it’s cool against her skin. His hands are hesitant as they circle around her waist; there’s a restraint to all of his movements. She’s hugging him and he’s cradling her and she understands that this is how he will spend eternity. Humans are as fragile as glass in his hands and if he forgets it for one second, he will crush them instantly. It seems so unfair then, that the Stefan who loved her best friend so openly, the Stefan of small smiles and secretive winks, the Stefan of wry humour and begrudging compliance-the Stefan who craves the company of people so dearly can never enjoy that company completely. He always has to keep himself back just a bit, always has to keep in mind that he is not one of them. He has nothing to look forward to but an eternity of passing acquaintances and Damon.

“Not that I’m complaining about the warming of relations, but I can’t help wonder why this feels so much like a goodbye.”

She goes still for a second, but it’s enough to alert Stefan to the fact that something is wrong. He pulls back, moves his hands to her upper arms and gazes at her in worry. “Caroline?”

Even the touch of his hands on her arms is cautious. It’s the barest touch of skin against skin. He’s careful; he’s always so careful-how did she miss this before when she lumped him with his brother? She forces a smile, but knows that it fails. “I’m sorry, I’m just . . .” she trails off, not able to think of a plausible lie. She settles for a half-truth instead. “I have a bad feeling about this. I can’t shake it.”

He studies her closely for a minute or two. She’s flooded with relief when he nods and lets go of her arms. “It’s hard, not knowing how Bonnie is. But I’m sure it’ll work out. Isobel isn’t going to win this game.”

Caroline shrugs. “She may not win, but who knows what she’ll get away with?”

Stefan gives her a sad smile and one last barely-there hug before leaving. He’s gone to check with Carol and the Council. They’re firmly lodged at the Lockwood manor, and she suspects most of them want to stay away from the crazy knife girl. John Gilbert certainly does, and she’s glad something productive came of that disastrous meeting.

Damon is already at the sheriff’s department, going over maps and organizing lookouts or whatever. Tyler explained this to her when he came in, but she barely listened. It doesn’t matter anyway.

She goes back inside and waves away Dean’s concern. She doesn’t rejoin the weapons session, instead takes Rumsfeld by the collar and leads him out to the backyard. She wastes two hours on her dog, playing, walking, and cuddling him to her heart’s content. She sees Dean watching her from time to time, but he doesn’t come out to interrupt. When she brings Rumsfeld back inside, Dean’s already got her dog’s food ready and waiting. She flashes him a grateful smile before leading Rumsfeld over to his dish. Dean leaves her sitting on the floor next to Rumsfeld, watching him eat.

Sunset is scheduled for sixty-thirty, and the plan is to leave the house by five-thirty to set up. At five-fifteen, Caroline is in the kitchen, nervously watching the back door. She can hear Dean and Tyler arguing about something on the front porch while the others busy themselves with piling into the cars. They’ll come for her soon enough. She wishes she had had time to spend with Dean alone today, but couldn’t take the risk. If she insisted on spending alone time with him today, Dean would have immediately become suspicious. She just hopes he’ll forgive her for this one day.

A shadow passes by the kitchen window and Caroline grabs the shotgun she’s prepped before. She walks past Rumsfeld’s dishes, eyes tearful when she thinks of her dog, shut away in the living room for the night. She pauses to make sure Dean and Tyler are still involved in their little argument before she moves to the back door and pulls it open quietly.

Isobel is waiting on the other side, a bloodied and unconscious Bonnie hanging from her hands-just like she promised. Caroline’s eyes roam over Bonnie, waiting a tense second before confirming the rise and fall of Bonnie’s chest. Her friend’s alive.

“You know the deal,” Isobel reminds her, mindful to keep her voice to a whisper. “I bring you Bonnie, you come with me.”

Caroline swallows a lump in her throat. “Bring her here.”

“You step out,” Isobel counters.

Caroline swears under her breath, bringing up the shotgun and pointing it at Isobel’s face as she slowly moves a foot past the doorway. “I drop the gun and come quietly the second she’s safely inside.”

Isobel rolls her eyes and drags Bonnie closer. For one second, Caroline’s side by side with her best friend. Isobel dangles Bonnie over the threshold and Caroline drops one hand from the shotgun to trace her fingers over Bonnie’s cheek. Then, Isobel drops Bonnie and grabs Caroline. Caroline resists, turning to make sure Bonnie lands all the way inside the house before Isobel yanks the gun out of her hand. Bonnie hits the ground with a hard thud and Caroline hears shouts coming from the front of the house.

“Sounds like an army,” Isobel muses, switching her hold from Caroline’s arm to her neck. “Good thing I brought back up.”

Dozens of vampires materialize in the Bennett’s backyard. Caroline doesn’t have time to open her mouth and accuse Isobel of breaking their deal. Pain explodes from the left side of her head and Caroline falls into unconsciousness amidst the sounds of guns firing.

~*~

_Four years after Founders’ Day, almost to the date, and Caroline Forbes is dying._

_The speakers blare out Def Leppard at a deafening volume and Dean’s driving like a crazed stuntman while she sits in the passenger seat. She thinks she should be crying. She’s spent most of the past year crying. But the shock is too much and she’s too numb for anything other than sitting and staring._

_Dean looks at her occasionally and tries to speak to her once or twice. She doesn’t respond in any way. She just looks out the front windshield and thinks of Sam. Dean’s probably waiting for her to yell, to scream ‘I told you so’, or something to that effect. She was against this plan from the start, but she didn’t go semi-catatonic until it failed so completely._

_So now they’re on their way to the final battleground. She doesn’t know what Dean thinks he can accomplish. They’ve lost. But he says Sammy doesn’t die alone, and that sentiment is the only thing that prompts her legs to move, to seat her in the front seat of the Impala. Uncle Bobby had tried to stop her, but she wouldn’t budge. The Apocalypse is here; there’s no such thing as a safe distance anymore._

_Dean roars into Stalls Cemetery and they’re just in time for the show. Dean undoes his seat-belt, turns to her and orders her to “stay here” before getting out himself. She doesn’t acknowledge him, but listens nonetheless. She can see Sam and Adam standing just beyond the car, but it’s an illusion. Sam and Adam aren’t there anymore; there’s only Lucifer and Michael._

_Dean gets out, saying that he wants five minutes to talk to Sam. Lucifer stalks closer to the car, eyes sliding past Dean to land on her in the front seat. His lips curve up into a cruel smile, something that looks so utterly foreign on Sam’s face. She hears him say something about giving Dean permission to take the blonde and hole up in a motel until the End comes. There are more lewd suggestions on what Dean and Caroline can do while they wait, but Lucifer’s cut off when Michael goes up in flames._

_Her eyes cut to the left and she sees Castiel and Uncle Bobby just behind where Michael had been standing. She swears under her breath, feels her heart start to warm a bit, and opens her car door. Her right foot just touches the ground when Lucifer turns and waves a hand. Castiel explodes right in front of them and she can’t help but scream._

_Lucifer looks back at her and smiles before snapping his fingers. She’s thrown back into the car by an unseen force and the door slams after her. She hits her head on the driver’s side window, screaming when her legs crash against the gearshift. Swearing and grabbing at her injured legs, Caroline jerks violently when the gunshot breaks out. She twists and looks out the windshield, sees Uncle Bobby standing there with a smoking gun in his hand. Lucifer growls and she watches, horrified, as Uncle Bobby’s head snaps to the side and he falls dead to the ground._

_She’s screaming, louder and louder, but she can’t even make out her own words. Her fists pummel the side window, Uncle Bobby’s name escapes her lips many times, and then there’s a loud smacking sound and the whole car shakes. She turns back to the passenger side window, sees Dean pushed up against the car with Lucifer standing before him. She scrambles over car seats, pulling and yanking at the door handle. The door won’t open and the windows won’t roll down when she tries them. Caroline pounds her fists against the window, screaming threats at Lucifer._

_He looks at her with Sam’s eyes and there’s a calculating look there that Sam never had. He grins, tells her to behave and he’ll reward her, and then turns back to hitting Dean. She shrieks every time a blow lands. She can’t hear what is being said on the other side, but she kicks and punches until her knuckles are bleeding. Frustrated, she opens the glove department and finds a wrench. She turns back to the glass, intent on shattering it so she could get outside._

_Lucifer’s looking right at her as she lifts the wrench and he shakes his head in dismay. His hand goes up, two fingers making a sideways motion, and suddenly Caroline can’t breathe._

_Her lungs gasp and struggle to find oxygen, but there’s none left in the car. The wrench drops from her hands and Caroline slumps forward. Her forehead is mashed up against the side window and she can see Dean looking at her in horror. Her hands claw at the window, desperate for air. Her eyelids start to droop and there’s a terrifying static in her ears. Caroline feels herself sliding down the window, her hands fall to the car floor, and her head comes to a stop on the window ledge. Her eyes close completely and then Caroline ceases to think at all . . ._

_She wakes up in a sunlit room. It takes her a second to realize that it’s her sunlit room and that Uncle Bobby and Rumsfeld are both sitting on the bed watching her. She gets up, afraid of the look on her uncle’s face. She glances around, sees Dean leaning against the door, looking perfectly healthy and perfectly miserable._

_The whole story comes out. How Sam fought back, he opened the cage, and how Michael followed him down it. She hears that Castiel is okay and back to being God’s little bitch (Dean sounds bitter) and how he healed both Uncle Bobby and Caroline before heading off to wherever he went. She listens to the news of how the world seems to have gone back to normal; that the demons are now on the run. She listens to everything, but all she hears is that Sam is gone._

_Four years after Founders’ Day, Caroline Forbes lays down on her bed, pulls the covers up and over her head, and feels every last part of her heart die._

~*~

Caroline comes back to her senses slowly, unsure of what’s happened. She hears voices shouting in the distance, and some sort of soft hum right beside her. She twitches, her finger moving slightly at the surface beneath her. She feels little pebbles and dirt underneath her fingertips and all the way up her arm. She realizes that she’s cold and someone has removed her jacket. And more importantly, removed the weapons she had stashed underneath it.

Caroline opens her eyes slightly and sees nothing but dirt, grass, and blackness. It’s all hazy, but she feels as though something is very wrong. The memories of Isobel and Bonnie come trickling back in and Caroline remembers what she’s done. She shifts her legs slightly, feeling the hard poke of rocks and twigs on her bare feet. They’ve taken her boots too.

The voices in the distance are very familiar and she strains to hear them. Isobel is the first voice she recognizes and Caroline catches the tail end of a taunt from the vampire. “ . . . a foot here. Silly little angel, you need to plan better.”

“Let her go!” This sounds like Sam, and it makes sense if Isobel is calling him an angel.

“I don’t think so,” Isobel says, dropping her voice to a normal volume and so Caroline can’t make out the words properly. “She’s . . . need to know . . . so cute . . . all that blood . . .”

The humming noise she heard earlier is louder now. Caroline listens to it and realizes it’s a voice. There’s someone sitting right behind her head, chanting something so quickly that the words blended together into a nonsensical hum. The noise reaches a high point, drowning out the sounds of Isobel and Sam fighting and Caroline’s heart seizes to hear it.

Her eyes snap open and she turns her head straight, ignoring the pain it causes her to do so. She gets a glimpse of black-clad arms and mocha-coloured hands before the dagger in those hands comes rushing down to meet her. Caroline reacts on instinct, brings up her hands and catches the woman’s hands just before the dagger can push into her eye. The chanter gives a startled noise and then attempts to push the knife down further. Isobel’s name is shouted from a very feminine voice as Caroline forces the dagger away from her face. The woman curses and then shrieks when Caroline rears up to bite the woman viciously on the exposed part of her wrist. The woman loosens her hold on the dagger enough for Caroline to yank it away.

There’s a rush of air at her back, letting her know Isobel is arriving. Caroline doesn’t stop to face her, just twists up and plunges down with the dagger. A spray of blood hits her face as the unknown woman gargles in alarm. Caroline doesn’t feel the hands on her back before she is thrown clear of her victim. She soars through the air, landing on her back painfully. The air goes out of her lungs and Caroline stares up at the night sky with unseeing eyes.

She blinks once or twice to try to focus. She hears some more shouting, but can’t make sense of the words. Isobel suddenly appears in her line of sight, the vampire looking mildly annoyed. “Look at the mess you’ve made,” Isobel snaps as she extends a hand towards Caroline. She puts Caroline on her feet so quickly that the blonde’s head spins. Caroline stumbles a bit, falling back onto her knees before Isobel fists her hand in Caroline’s hair and yanks her head backwards.

“It doesn’t fix anything,” Isobel tells her. “You think I’m stupid? That I don’t plan for these things? Lily over there has been fed so much vampire blood in the last week that she’ll probably be getting up in a few minutes and then she’ll finish the spell. You’re still going to die here, Yappy. And no one’s going to help you. The town’s over run with almost fifty vampires and I’ve got ten more waiting in the woods. No one’s getting through all that in time. Well, the angels are, but we both know that they can’t help you. They’re not welcome here.”

Isobel lets go of Caroline suddenly. The blonde’s head slumps forward and Caroline takes a few deep breaths to calm herself. She looks around and sees the woman who had tried to kill her before, the one Isobel called Lily. Well, Lily doesn’t look so good. She’s lying absolutely still in a pool of her own blood. Caroline swallows and forces herself not to throw up.

She’s never killed a person before.

“You’re not getting away with this,” Caroline sputters, prying her eyes from the sight of Lily’s body. “They’ll stop you.”

“Are you not listening?” Isobel stomps her way over and kneels down so she’s eye level with Caroline. “No one’s coming. They’re too busy dealing with the minions I set loose on Mystic Falls. And if any of them do get through, I’ve got reinforcements spread out all over this area. But you’re not talking about those pathetic little human fighters. You’re talking about Bonnie. That’s why you agreed to the deal, right? You thought if you gave the white hats Bonnie back, they would heal her and she would come back here and do her thing. I thought of that; it’s why I had her house set on fire just before I left. Bonnie’s probably all crispy by now. And if she somehow managed to survive, the Salvatores are just too busy to heal her right now. And your angels? They don’t seem all that inclined to help little Bonnie Bennett. Those two keep popping in here, trying to save you themselves. It hasn’t gone so well, if you haven’t noticed.”

“Well, your plan isn’t going too well either,” Caroline snaps back. “I don’t care if your little witch does wake up. Every minute going by is just more time for the others. Even if you raise Lilitu tonight, Bonnie will get better and she will work with Castiel and Sam to put him down before he gets too far.”

Isobel sighs and shakes her head. “Oh Yappy, you don’t get it, do you? I had such high hopes. You seemed so on the ball that day in the ladies’ room. But you don’t understand, do you? I don’t want to raise Lilitu. He’s a whole lot of drama that I don’t want.”

Caroline frowns and struggles to her feet. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Well, Lilitu was always Katherine’s thing,” Isobel explains, walking over to check on Lily. Caroline eyes the tree line, wondering if she could make it off Willow Creek grounds before Isobel caught her. The vampire jerks her head up and grins. “You’d never make it, Yappy. I’m a vampire. I could stop you before you got far.”

Caroline growls and backs up, casting a glance around for something, anything that would help. Her jacket and her boots are nowhere to be seen. All she’s got on hand is rocks and twigs. Not helpful.

“Anyway, I’m sorry for lying to you,” Isobel continues with her story, nudging Lily slightly with her foot. “I just had to say something to you that day to get you to agree. I figured you would trade for Bonnie in a second, but I couldn’t have you getting too close to the truth, could I? The thing is, Lilitu is a good idea in theory, but Katherine only wanted him out so he could get her Klaus. I’ve got no interest in the Original Ones and bowing down to some deformed demon-human hybrid isn’t pleasing. Seriously, you should see the drawings of this guy. Ugly doesn’t cover it.”

Caroline spots the dagger she used on Lily lying just beyond Isobel. She starts to skirt that way slowly, her eyes never leaving Isobel. The vampire either doesn’t realize her intent or doesn’t care because she keeps telling her story while trailing fingers through Lily’s bloodied hair. “The thing is, Bonnie gave me an idea. I was still committed to raising Lilitu after Bonnie killed Katherine, if nothing else than for revenge. But watching the little witch and seeing her struggle after the fight, I figured she had done something wrong that day. So two weeks ago, I have her picked up, and it’s easy because she only has that Mutt boy for protection. I tie her up, torture her for days, and when she’s delirious, she starts mumbling out pieces of her story. I put two and two together and figured out that Bonnie stole that angel’s powers. And then, an idea struck me. If she could do that to an angel she traded blood with, could I do the same with Lilitu?”

Caroline stops in her tracks and gives Isobel a scared look. “You really have lost your mind, haven’t you?”

Isobel waves this off, a serene smile curving her lips. “It makes perfect sense. Just follow me for a second, will you? Bonnie drank this angel’s blood, formed a bond, and then ripped his powers from his body in this very spot. I don’t care what you say, the lines had something to do with it. Now, Lilitu gave his blood to the Original Ones, one of whom was Klaus. Klaus made Katherine, she made Damon, and then Damon made me. He’s like my great-great-grandfather, vampire wise, and that’s a stronger blood connection that any other vampire can claim. Why can’t I use the lines and my blood bond to Lilitu to drain his powers straight from Hell? Then I become the Head Bitch and everyone bows down to me. The only thing standing in my way is this silly little covenant, and Bonnie’s done a good job of weakening it already. She brought the power of Heaven to a place where it was forbidden to dwell. And now, in order to break the bonds of this agreement entirely, I have you.”

“The bloodletting,” Caroline says with disgust.

“Wrong!” Isobel gets to her feet and speeds over to Caroline, catching the blonde by the throat in a blink of an eye. “The bloodletting would let out Lilitu, and that’s not what I’m aiming for. This spell breaks the power of the covenant in the simplest way. The deal was struck between five families and God. Heaven overstepped its own boundaries, unintentional as that step may have been, and the only thing holding it together is the bloodlines that feed it. There are way too many Fells, Gilberts, Lockwoods, and Salvatores out there. A hundred and fifty years expands the family quite a bit, except if that family is named Forbes.”

Caroline’s heart sinks. She knows the truth before Isobel can spell it out for her. “A hundred and fifty years of single-child families,” Isobel laughs lightly. “You Forbes couldn’t have made it any simpler. Only your grandfather broke tradition and tried for more than one child. But both those children are dead and the only remaining Forbes is standing right here. You’re it, Yappy. You’re the last Forbes, the only one upholding your family’s part in the covenant, and when you die tonight, it’s all over.”

More noise explodes from the trees. She hears her name being shouted over and over again. Her heart sinks when she recognizes Dean’s voice. Gunshots soon add to the mix and then she can hear Sam shouting for Dean. Isobel turns towards the noise, a speculative look on her face. “Well, they’re certainly determined. Lily? How you feeling?”

Caroline swings her head around and watches with horrified eyes as Lily struggles to get to her feet. The wound in her neck is closing, the skin melding back together and soon it’s like Caroline never stabbed her. The witch makes it to her feet, blood smeared all over her face. She’s glaring death at Caroline, rubbing one hand gingerly across her throat.

“You’re dead,” Lily rasps, moving sluggishly towards Isobel.

“Now, now, let’s not fight,” Isobel smiles and places a tender kiss on the corner of Lily’s lips. Caroline makes a disgusted noise in her throat and Isobel tightens her grip just a bit. Soon Caroline’s gasping and Isobel has turned back to Lily. “Come on, dear. We need to finish up. Complete the spell and then you’re welcome to drink from her to transition. But we need to hurry. We’re about to have company.”

Caroline’s relieved when she hears Dean’s voice again, and that it’s closer than before. Isobel looks to the woods in irritation, gently pushing Lily towards the dagger. “Pick it up,” she orders, turning Caroline’s back to the direction Dean’s voice is coming from. Caroline tries to kick the vampire and gets backhanded for the effort. Isobel’s ever tightening grip on her windpipe is making it very hard to breathe. Caroline’s seeing spots as she gazes over Isobel’s shoulder. She sees a flash of something, not sure if she’s really seeing what’s there. Isobel’s too busy laughing at Sam and Dean to notice much else and Lily is too intent on Caroline to see anything.

“Pathetic,” Isobel declares, tossing Caroline to the ground. Caroline’s head connects with a rock and she blacks out for a second. The pain in the back of her head is intense and she feels something warm sliding down her neck. Isobel might have cracked her skull open with that last move. “They finally get it into their brain that they need help, so they bring one human. One human? These angels never learn.”

“They’re not so bad,” Caroline manages to gasp, feebly trying to get her body to move away from Isobel. She’s not having the best of luck, so she gives up and collapses back down to the ground.

“Oh yeah? What makes you say that, Yappy?”

Lily’s creeping closer, picking up her chant once again. The moonlights flashing off the dagger’s hilt and Caroline can’t help but laugh-it’s all so bizarre in that instant. “Angels can learn,” she mutters in between hysterical giggles. Caroline turns on her back and looks up at Isobel, wondering if she could see any bit of Elena in that face. There’s nothing but ice. “We taught Cas a lot of stuff. Dean even taught him how to shoot a gun.”

Isobel frowns and Caroline sees that the vampire detects the hidden meaning of her words. But she’s too late to do anything about it. The gunshot blast comes from the trees behind Isobel and the bullet catches her in the left side. Lily screams while Isobel gurgles. The vampire runs a hand down her stomach, smearing blood all over it. She looks at Caroline in confusion and then Isobel falls to her knees.

“Not bad,” the vampire gasps before falling face first into the dirt. Lily howls in rage and she’s on top of Caroline in seconds. The dagger’s raised high and Caroline doesn’t have the strength to stop it this time. But another shot rings out before Lily can bring down her arm. The witch’s body jerks violently and Caroline gets another spray of blood to her face. Lily’s eyes cross, the dagger falls from her hands, and she topples over, landing hard on top of Caroline.

Caroline grunts upon impact and then coughs. Her head is spinning and she wants to push Lily off, but her arms don’t have the strength. Caroline drops her hands and tilts her head back. She looks up at the night sky, the shouts of Dean and Sam sounding further and further away. She blinks once, and it’s a long one. The stars are starting to blur out of focus and then her eyes fall shut for good.

~*~

“I told you it was a bad idea.”

They’re sitting on the front lawn of the school. Poster boards are spread out all around them and the spaces in between are littered with paintbrushes and paint jars. She remembers this sunny day. It was in the year before the Salvatores came to town. It was before Elena’s parents died in that car crash. It was before everything went to shit and the two of them were just girls.

It was nice.

Caroline reaches out with a brush, slowly tracing a large pink ‘V’ on the white paper. She looks up to Elena, smiles at the sight of her friend with her long hair tied back, large button shirt serving as a smock, and a smudge of red paint on her cheek. “It’s not like I could remember what you said,” Caroline reminds her before going back to her painting. “And that’s exactly the way you wanted it.”

There’s a splash of water as Elena swirls her brush around, trying to clean it. “You sound like you’ve figured it all out. Have you, Caroline?”

Caroline drops her brush back into the pink paint jar and leans back. She brushes hair out of her eyes with paint-smeared fingers and then looks intently at her friend. “I think you knew if I could remember everything that happened in these dreams, then I would have also figured out that you’re not Elena. This way, you at least had a chance for me to listen.”

Elena moves a completed poster out of the way, the paint advertising the upcoming Valentine’s Day dance still glistening. She puts it in a swatch of sunlight to help it dry before turning back to Caroline. “That’s not entirely true. She lent me her essence and her memories. It gave her a chance, however little and obscure, to connect with you again. She was happy to do it.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Caroline sighs. “So, who are you? I want to say who I think you are, but I’m not exactly correct, am I?”

A secretive smile graces Elena’s face. “You’re very smart, Caroline. And you’re right, I did keep you from remembering these dreams on purpose. Leaving you with the bare impressions helped keep them fresh on your mind and gave enough mystery to them that you wouldn’t just turn your back completely. You did hold out for a while, but Elena was right. You could never fully turn your back on her. Even if you were still angry.”

Caroline arches an eyebrow, unimpressed. “You didn’t answer the question.”

Elena sighs and stretches out her arms. She wiggles her fingers and gazes thoughtfully at the surrounding area. “You’ve heard of me, I think. They used to call me Metatron.”

Caroline purses her lips. “Alan Rickman was so far off.”

“But no less brilliant for it,” Elena quips back lightly. “And as over-the-top sacrilegious as that movie was, they got a few things right. I am Metatron, the voice of the one true God.”

“He couldn’t come Himself?”

Elena laughs. “You know it doesn’t work like that, Caroline,” the girl winks at her suggestively. “And just be happy that I’m in this form. I could have been a burning bush or a blinding light. I just figured this would be more comfortable for you.”

Caroline looks at Elena sharply. “Where were you?”

“Before, you mean?” Elena looks to her for clarification, but they both know what Caroline means so it’s just a stalling tactic. “I was . . . around. Please understand, Caroline. I am the voice of God. He speaks through me, fills my mind and my lips with His divine words. He’s always done this, always been with me in some way. When He was gone, there are no words to describe the loneliness. I wasn’t sure if this was what we were supposed to do and I could not turn to my Father for guidance. So I just sat there.”

“You did nothing while the world ended?”

Elena winces. “It sounds awful when you say it like that,” she mutters despondently. “But yes, I did. I turned my back at Stalls Cemetery so I would not have to see my brothers kill each other. I turned away, wallowing in despair, until He began to speak to me again.”

Caroline swallows an angry retort. “Is He back in Heaven then?” she manages to ask.

Elena’s face falls. “No, He’s not,” she admits. “He is speaking to me again, but He’s still wandering the Earth. We don’t know what He is looking for. We’re just glad to have His presence amongst us again. Does it not comfort you as well?”

She can’t answer that. “Where’s Elena?”

“With her parents, waiting for Stefan,” Elena shakes her head, brown hair fluttering in the wind. “She’s happy, especially now. It was a bad idea, but it worked out in the end. But maybe you should work on making plans that don’t have the capacity to go to Hell at the slightest miscalculation.”

Caroline laughs. “It’s like you don’t know me at all,” she says before sobering. She gazes hard at Elena before her, tries to get a handle on the feelings swirling around inside her belly. “This is the last one, isn’t it?”

Elena shrugs. “She lent me her presence to help save her town, and that’s done. She can take it back and just rest until her loved ones join her. She’s earned a bit of a break, I think.”

Caroline smiles at the way that is delivered. Even after death, Elena’s winning over admirers. It’s just so typical.

“When do I get my break?” she asks suddenly.

Elena rolls her eyes and pulls a blank poster board in front of her. “You are still alive,” she reminds Caroline. “Why would you want to take a break from that? Besides, you know you still have things to do, Caroline Forbes.”

“Want to tell me about those things?”

“You know what they are,” Elena dips her brush into the red paint jar and commences painting a large heart on her paper. “You have to stop pretending to be so dense, Caroline. It gives the wrong impression.”

She’s feeling surly. “Who said I was pretending?”

Elena smiles and shakes her head. “Caroline Forbes, the only pretending you do is when you act like you’re leaving Mystic Falls for that scrap yard in South Dakota.”

Caroline narrows her eyes. “What are you trying to say?”

“Elena needed to save her town, and she looked to you to help,” Elena shrugs and gives her an amused look. “What I think is that you’ve forgotten something along the way.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s your town too, Caroline.”

~*~

She wakes up briefly, and it’s daytime outside. She’s covered with a blanket up to her chest. Her arms are heavy and when she shifts, she discovers her left arm is trapped under something. She cracks open dry eyes and squints, seeing a mass of black curls peeking out from underneath another blanket.

“You stupid little-“

“Dean.”

Caroline frowns and turns her head to the side. She sees yellow walls and stuffed animals everywhere. She frowns and tries to remember how she ended up in her old bedroom.

Dean and Sam are sitting by her bedside and neither one looks too happy as they stare at her. Caroline furrows her brow and thinks hard. Why would the Winchesters be angry with her?

“You feeling okay?” Sam is the first to speak. He slips in front of his brother and places a hand on her forehead. She closes her eyes and leans into his touch. It feels so nice.

“Caroline?”

“Ah-“ Her jaw moves slightly. Her tongue feels heavy in her mouth and it takes a few tries, but she’s able to speak. “I think . . . my head. Why am I . . . is Isobel Lilitu yet?”

Sam smiles at her and turns to face his brother. “She’s a little out of it.”

“She’s goddamn lucky to be alive!”

“Dean!”

Dean’s angry at her, because she . . . did something.

“You should get some more rest,” Sam advises as he turns back to face her. He bends down and presses a kiss to her forehead. “I’ll come see you later.”

She nods once and he backs away. He looks to his brother, who hasn’t moved an inch. “Dean?”

“I’ll be right there,” Dean says, his eyes dark.

“Dean-“

“Get out Sammy,” Dean snaps at his brother. “Go take your wings for a spin-whatever. Just go.”

Sam sighs heavily, but blinks out of the room obediently. Caroline frowns again, looking at Dean who glares back angrily. “You’re . . . mad?”

His face drops and it looks like he’s grinding his teeth. Caroline’s eyes are starting to feel droopy again. She wants to know what’s up with Dean, but she doesn’t think she’ll be able to get an answer. She just feels so sleepy . . .

“M’sorry,” she mumbles as her eyelids start to close. She’s not sure why she’s sorry, but she knows she is.

“Yeah, that’s easy to say now,” Dean moves and gets to his knees beside her, so that their faces are level. She struggles to keep her eyes open. 

“You’re a dumb little blonde and I should kick your ass for what you did,” he says gruffly, wiping at his eyes. His cheeks are glistening with wetness after his hand goes back down and Caroline’s confused. Why is Dean crying? 

“But that’ll have to wait until you’re feeling better, I suppose,” Dean sniffs and coughs to clear his throat. “Just one thing, before I go. The next time you feel like dying a horrible death? Let me know in advance. I’ll spare everyone the anxiety and just shoot you myself.”

Her eyes close and her hand reaches out sluggishly. She feels him take hold of it, gripping it tightly between his calloused fingers before she feels his lips pressing against the back of her hand. She laughs, a weak little noise that sounds more like a wheeze than anything else. “You wouldn’t,” is all she says before settling back down for rest.

“Yeah, but I’m tempted,” she hears him mutter before she falls back into a deep sleep.

~*~

When she wakes up the second time, it’s night and everything is very dark. Her eyes flutter open and she’s in the same room and there’s still a weight on her left arm. She’s feeling a bit better and she remembers more than she did last time. She’s aware enough to know that Bonnie is the one sleeping on her arm and that they are not alone in this room.

Damon’s standing by the window, arms folded across his chest as he glares down at the back of Bonnie’s head. Caroline’s heart stops beating and for a second, she thinks she’s having another one of her nightmares.

“It’s okay,” Stefan’s suddenly beside her and she can’t help the yelp of alarm. “It’s just me, it’s okay.”

Caroline’s breathing heavily and it takes her a minute to calm down. Stefan smiles at her in assurance and reaches out to help her sit up. Caroline winces, because Bonnie’s still holding her arm captive. Stefan chuckles softly as he leans over and helps her extract her arm from Bonnie’s clutches. Caroline chances a look at Damon and finds him in the same position as before.

“What’s he-“

“He’s talking to Bonnie,” Stefan explains, motioning to the witch. “It’s something we worked out a while back. So we could still talk even if one of us was injured. Unfortunately it only works on our end when we’re in the same room with her. We were supposed to work on strengthening it when Isobel nabbed her.”

Isobel. The name sends shivers down Caroline’s spine. She grabs Stefan’s hand tightly. “What happened?”

Stefan eyes soften and he pats her hand in comfort. “Everything’s fine. Well, fine might be a bad choice, but certainly everything’s as fine as it could be. Isobel launched quite the attack. We should have seen it coming, but we didn’t know she had her own Salem witch. Her taking Bonnie threw us off that track. That girl, Lily, she charmed several rings and necklaces. They came before sunset and we were surprised.”

“Bonnie’s house!” Caroline blurts out, latching onto a memory of Isobel’s taunts. “Isobel set it on fire! Is everyone . . .”

“No one died,” Stefan assures her. “Tyler was badly burnt. Dean managed to get Bonnie out before the blaze got too out of hand. Tyler went back in for your dog.”

Caroline goes numb with fear. “Rumsfeld?”

“Is okay,” Stefan smiles faintly, as if laughing at some vague memory. “Tyler got knocked in the head pretty bad and Rumsfeld dragged him out by the collar. Jeremy’s still teasing him about it.”

Caroline heaves a sigh of relief. She leans back against her headboard and closes her eyes for a second. She needs to remember to thank Tyler or do something nice for him later on. “How did the town make out?” she asks for a moment’s pause.

“Lost some deputies,” Stefan says with a grimace. “And a few others are close. Deputy-sheriff Sulez is on her way to recovery, but it was scary for a bit. Alaric had his right arm broken, Sheriff McCullough’s got three broken ribs and a concussion, and Matt lost a lot of blood along with fracturing his leg. A few of Bonnie’s remaining witch friends got hurt, the worst was Mary Honeycutt. She’s still in hospital and we’re awaiting news. We’ve given some blood to Carol to hold, in case things get worse. Mary’s like Matt; she never wanted vampire blood inside her.”

Caroline frowns, not sure why they would have to give Carol blood when they could technically give it from the source. She eyes the silent Damon suspiciously. Maybe they think they have to sneak it to her or something? 

“Isobel?” she asks, redirecting the conversation.

“Dead,” Stefan sighs as he drops his eyes and starts picking at the blanket with his fingers. “Those bullets Dean gave us, they work pretty well. Along with the vervain darts and the stake guns, we managed to put down the vampires before we lost too many people. It took hours, but most of them were staked and the others fled. Isobel kept some in the woods, and Sam popped into the middle of a gun fight to pull Dean out. From what they tell us, the brothers took out Isobel’s reinforcements while the other angel, Castiel, dealt with Isobel. Sam and Dean caused the distraction, Castiel shot her from outside the warded territory, and Dean rushed in to finish the job while the angels took care of any lingering vampires.”

“What happened to Lily?”

“Dean burnt Isobel’s body right there. Castiel apparently also shot Lily and Dean tossed her body onto the fire as well. They’re both gone.”

She had known it on some level, but the verbal confirmation does wonders to take some of the stress off her mind. Caroline lets out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding and allows her body to slide down into a more relaxed position. A small smile starts to stretch across her face. She feels almost peaceful.

“You scared a lot of people,” Stefan starts speaking again. Her eyes widen and she looks to him in confusion. “You ran off, on your own-you could have discussed this with us. Or with Dean. The poor guy went out of his mind when you were gone. I think he’s a little hurt under it all, as well. Caroline, we were all with you. Why didn’t you tell us?”

She looks away, shame staining her cheeks red. “I thought you wouldn’t agree,” she mutters. “Or I thought someone would mess it up-I don’t know. I should have said something-I always yell at Dean for running off half-cocked, but I didn’t even hesitate to lie to him. I don’t know. I’ve tried working with others and it only works so far. Something always goes wrong and someone dies-so I thought I should handle it.”

Her voice trails off at the end, and she knows that her excuses are pathetic at best. If she tries her hand at honesty, she’ll have to admit that she doesn’t trust them-any of them. Not even Dean-not anymore. And not because she’s afraid they’ll betray her, but she’s afraid they won’t come back in one piece. Someone always dies-and this time Caroline thought it would be better if that someone was her.

She can’t look at Stefan, afraid that he’ll see the truth. Her eyes roam the darkened room, looking for something to distract herself with. Her gaze lands upon Damon again and she’s startled to see him looking right at her. She straightens, glancing down at Bonnie quickly before looking up again. She supposes they’re done with their conversation, but she doesn’t know why Damon’s being so quiet. And she doesn’t know what to make of the disappointed look on his face.

“What time is it?” she asks Stefan, turning her back on Damon.

“You should be asking what day it is,” Stefan replies evenly. “You’ve been asleep for almost two days.”

Caroline’s taken aback. “Really?”

Stefan nods as another amused smile curves his lips. “We had to find a new place for you, and your old house was closest. We dumped you both here after the angels did their best with your wounds. We got a little worried when you didn’t get up yesterday, but Sam told us to leave you two. That there was more than just physical healing happening. You spent a good part of last night talking in your sleep and crying. Dean says that’s what you usually do when . . .”

She hears the unspoken question clearly and it twists her heart because the second he mentions it, she does remember. She remembers every single last one, from start to finish, and she feels stupid for ever thinking that it was Elena. There’s an irrational flash of hatred against herself; Elena had been a close friend for sixteen years. How could she have been so clueless? And why couldn’t she realize that she only went along with it because, deep inside, she wanted it to be Elena? She ignored every sign, never willing to analyze why every word out of Elena’s mouth was something Caroline wanted her to say. She wanted Elena to beg for forgiveness, she wanted Bonnie to fight with Elena on her behalf, she wanted Elena to tell her she was doing things wrong because Caroline knew that she was. She wanted Elena to need her, so Caroline could turn her back on Elena. It was everything she wanted and everything she already knew, with sprinkles of heavenly insight and pushiness in between.

And how does she say that to Stefan? How can she explain that she was wrong? Heaven played her yet again, and she went with it because it soothed her ego. It’s an easier pill for her to swallow because she has regret, but she can mourn and move on. Elena is Stefan’s everything-even after death. She sees the barely concealed desperation in his eyes, remembers their conversation from before. How does she put Elena before him and then take her away?

She’s a coward. She can’t do it. “Yeah,” she murmurs, eyes sliding away. She locks eyes with Damon again, but this time she doesn’t glance away. He looks at her like he knows the truth and there’s this soft pleading to his eyes that confuses her. She stares at him with a hard glare, screws up her courage, and then lies.

“It was her,” she says, taking up Stefan’s hand and squeezing it. She plasters on a smile she doesn’t mean and continues. “She seemed . . . I don’t know. I can’t remember, but I feel like she was happy, you know? But . . .”

An anxious look crosses Stefan’s face. “But what?”

Caroline takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. She looks towards the opposite wall, trying for a rueful expression. “It also felt like goodbye. I can’t put my finger on it . . . but, there’s something final about this one. Who knows? Maybe with Isobel gone, she can be at peace?”

She dares a glance at Stefan as she says these last words. There’s some relief in his eyes, because she’s said exactly what he wanted to hear. But there is also pain, because now Elena’s gone in every way. She sees it clearly on his face, understands his feelings better than she would have liked. A strangled sob escapes her lips before she throws her arms around his neck and pulls him close. His hands press against her back, in that same barely there touch that belies his caution. She grips him tighter because she knows he can’t hold her as tightly as he might need. Apologies come pouring out of her mouth and it makes him chuckle as he rubs comforting circles on her back.

“It’s okay,” he says, and there’s something in his voice that suggests he might even mean it. He pulls back and gives her that Stefan-half-smile. “It’s not your fault. It still sucks, but it’s not your fault. Besides, you empathize more than I wish you did.”

Damon clears his throat loudly and she jumps at the sudden interruption. She turns and glares at him. He returns her glare with a slightly sad expression and she’s stumped. What is with him today?

“You need to wrap this up,” Damon says, and it takes her a second to realize he’s talking to Stefan.

“Why?” she asks, giving Stefan a curious look.

“Dean gave us a time limit,” Stefan explains, his smile turning into a smirk at the mention of Dean. “He doesn’t trust Damon yet, but considering the circumstances and my promise to never leave your side while Damon’s here, he relented.”

“What are the circumstances? Stefan, what’s going on?”

“It’s time for goodbye,” Damon’s the one who answers her. She glances at him suspiciously and he just shrugs. “It is what it is.”

“What Damon is very cryptically alluding to is that we’re leaving,” Stefan clarifies and she just arches an eyebrow. “Leaving Mystic Falls.”

Huh? “Huh?”

“The secret’s out of the coffin,” Damon tells her. “Council wants us out.”

“The Council is only tolerant to a certain extent,” Stefan says with a little laugh. “They were okay with us hanging around when the town was in peril, but they made it pretty clear from the start that we weren’t welcome to stay.”

“We’re being deported,” Damon quips, pushing off from the wall and walking closer to the bed. She fidgets more and more as he approaches, her hand reaching out for Stefan’s again. “Under penalty of death. Well, permanent death. That’s gratitude, I tell you.”

“Carol let us know that the others are getting anxious,” Stefan continues. “We’re leaving tonight.”

Caroline’s not sure how she’s supposed to take this. She’s more confused than disappointed. It’s like events were getting beyond her grasp, yet again. “Where are you going?”

Damon shrugs, wandering over to her dresser top and gazing down at the few framed photos she has there. “New York, London, Paris-Kathmandu. Who knows? I say we go to the airport and just buy tickets on the first flight out.”

She nods, and then wrinkles her nose. “What if the next flight’s out to Omaha?”

Stefan laughs. “We might take the second one, if it came to that,” he pauses and looks towards the door. “Dean’s getting antsy. We better go.”

Damon snorts and glares at Caroline. “Your boyfriend’s annoying.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” she retorts. “And I don’t really care if he’s annoying you. In fact, I might buy him a new gun in gratitude.”

Damon looks at her, not a trace of irritation or his usual smugness on his face. “We’ve got no time left, so let’s get to it. I’m sorry.”

The anger rears up suddenly and loudly. She opens her mouth, not sure what’s going to come out, but he stops her with a hand to the mouth. “I know you don’t want to hear it. I understand that you don’t want to hear it, especially not here. But it’s true, and it’s all that I got: I’m sorry.”

She’s tempted to bite the hand over her mouth, and she makes sure her eyes are shooting death at him. He just sighs, removes his hand, and walks back to the window. “I know you that you hate this house, mostly because I can get in whenever I want. It’s a problem, I understand. But once you invite a vampire in, they have access all the time. These walls,” Damon pauses here to push his hand against the nearby wall, “these particular walls, they’ll let us in every time. And I’m not saying anymore because you’re not that blonde.”

The anger dissipates in another flood of confusion. She looks to Stefan for answers. “We’ve left the money with Carol. She’s happy to take charge of the project. Make sure everything goes, all the way down to the foundations. Keep going until there’s nothing but dirt left.”

“Stefan, I’m not-“

“And you’re not blonde enough to believe that anymore,” Damon interrupts again.

“It’s okay, Caroline,” Stefan carries on for his brother. “You don’t need to make justifications to anyone. But the longer you keep this up, the greater the damage. Come home, be safe, and be happy.”

She’s tearing up again. “I don’t know how,” she whispers down at the blanket.

Stefan leans in, envelops her carefully in his arms, and puts his lips to her ears. “You don’t know until you try,” he pulls back and pats her shoulder. “Elena would tell you the exact same thing.”

She nods, because Elena would totally say that, along with a few physical manoeuvres if Caroline failed to comply right away. She laughs weakly and a few tears leak out. Damon’s on his way out, she should be ecstatic. But she feels uncomfortable and unsure. How can they leave after dragging her back?

“You don’t need to hate me to exist, Caroline,” Damon’s voice intrudes on her thoughts. She glances at him sharply, mouth set into a thin line. “You’re more than hiding from me. You’re more than the angel’s ex-girlfriend. And you’re more than the girl whose mother’s dead. Shit, I’m not sure who you are anymore. The guns and the knives make it hard to tell. But you’re more than the things that happened to you.”

“I don’t need lectures from you,” she seethes angrily.

“You need them from someone,” he says with an easy shrug. “And I’m the only one not willing to sugar-coat it for your feelings. I’ll see you outside.”

He’s out her window and gone in the blink of an eye. She rolls her eyes at his exit, making a face at Stefan. “I hate him.”

Stefan shrugs. “He’s not wrong.”

“That just makes me hate him more,” she growls sulkily.

A loud cough from outside startles her. Stefan hangs his head and laughs, pointing to his watch. “Dean’s punctual.”

“For some things,” she agrees grudgingly.

Stefan quirks his lips into another half-smile. “Goodbye, Caroline.”

She sniffs and brushes away an errant tear. “Goodbye, Stefan.”

He’s out the window and gone before Dean even opens the door.

 

~*~


	8. Finale

_Four years and three months after Founders’ Day and Caroline Forbes is cremating her uncle._

_The months have passed painfully and Uncle Bobby’s death comes suddenly and far away from home. Castiel sent Sam to give her word of it, a bad idea considering she wasn’t aware that Sam was back before. The heart attack of seeing her dead boyfriend combined with the news of her uncle’s death overwhelms Caroline. She doesn’t speak for days._

_Dean drives in the next day, tires squealing in the salvage yard. He rushes in breathless, demands an explanation, and she only hugs Rumsfeld closer. Castiel appears to give him his explanation and Caroline goes to gather the wood. Sam brings the body from the alleyway in Denver and Dean helps her set the pyre._

_She stands close by, eyes watering as the smoke stings them, and ignores Dean’s calls to move back. She stands as the pyre burns for hours, stands there until there’s little left to burn. Sam appears on her right side and Dean on her left. She feels their fingers brush her hands, feels them trying to comfort her. She jerks her hands away and steps back, eyes changing from blank to enraged in a second._

_“Bury the ashes,” she orders, moving away when Castiel tries to get closer. “Bury the ashes, and then get the fuck out.”_

_She turns on her heel, whistles for her most loyal dog, and stalks into the house, slamming the door behind her._

_Four years and three months after Founders’ Day, the Apocalypse has been averted, but Caroline finds her world has ended all the same._

~*~

The third time she wakes it’s because she feels fingers skimming across her face. Caroline opens her eyes and sees a pair of sad green ones looking back at her.

“Hey,” she greets Bonnie in a hushed whisper.

“Hey,” Bonnie whispers in return. Bonnie’s fingers keep tracing patterns on Caroline’s cheek and Caroline slings an arm across Bonnie’s midsection.

“I remember our last sleepover,” Caroline whispers, a ghost of a smile on her face. “We gave each other manis and pedis, and then ate unholy amounts of ice cream.”

“You added vodka to yours,” Bonnie reminds her with a little laugh. “That was gross.”

Caroline snickers. “It really was.”

They laugh quietly together and lapse into a comfortable silence. Bonnie’s eyes dart away from Caroline’s face and towards the end of the bed. “There’s a dog on the bed,” the witch whispers in confusion.

“It’s Rumsfeld,” Caroline explains. She moves her hand up from Bonnie’s torso and tucks some of Bonnie’s hair behind her ear. “You have an angel inside you.”

Bonnie nods and bites her lip. “He tells me things,” Bonnie whispers, and her tone is a little bit haunted at this point. “He told me something about Willow Creek and how to fix the covenant. He says we need to make it stronger, to keep the town safe. We have to keep the town safe, Caroline. It’s what she died for.”

Caroline nods, knowing what Bonnie is saying before she says it. It’s what everyone’s been saying to her. It’s what Aunt Karen was trying to explain to her, what Uncle Bobby always said she would figure out one day. It’s what her mother never got to explain, it’s what Castiel was saying without saying.

This is her home. The town is hers. It doesn’t belong just to her, but a part of it is hers alone. It’s where she grew up, where some of her happiest memories took place. It’s her lot, her destiny, her responsibility-and she’s never wanted it. But it’s hers nonetheless, and it’s been waiting for her the entire five years she spent hiding at Uncle Bobby’s.

“Caroline?” Bonnie’s voice is soft and pleading. Caroline blinks and looks back at her friend. She thinks of five years in South Dakota and the results-a broken heart, a dead uncle, and endless bitterness. She looks at Bonnie and sees terror, death, and heartache. Neither home is ideal; neither home is without its bad memories. But Dean will come with her wherever she will go, and Rumsfeld is a given. Bonnie is here and Bonnie won’t leave. And for the first time, Caroline doesn’t think to ask her.

“I need you for this, Caroline,” Bonnie whispers in that same pleading tone. “I can’t do this without you.”

Caroline smiles and nods, the fear in her belly not unexpected but not as paralyzing as it has been in the past. She reaches over and hugs Bonnie to her chest, feeling nervous but content to have Bonnie close again. There are a million arguments to be had in the future. A lot of cursing and fighting and colliding is on the horizon. Dean and Matt are still butting heads and Tyler is really creeping her out lately. John Gilbert is still in town and Jeremy will be caught in the middle when push comes to shove. Castiel and Sam will be back for Pahalial, and Caroline still isn’t convinced that Cas’s plan will work. It’s an uncertain future, a hard future.

But it’s a future.

She laughs until she’s crying and her friend is confused.

“Caroline?” Bonnie makes it a question. Caroline shakes her head and hugs Bonnie closer than before.

“What’s a little blood and hair between friends?”

~The End~


End file.
